


Grey Areas, White Collars

by 5u_u__u5



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - White Collar Fusion, Assassin Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope Is a Good Friend, Kim Seokjin | Jin & Kim Jisoo Are Siblings, Kim Seokjin | Jin & Kim Taehyung | V Are Siblings, Kim Taehyung | V & Kim Jisoo Are Twins, Mentioned TWICE Ensemble, Minor GOT7 (Ensemble), Minor Red Velvet emsemble, Multi, Park Chaeyoung | Rosé & Park Jimin Are Siblings, Slow Burn, Special Agent Kim Namjoon, Special Agent Min Yoongi, Wait there's a tag for that, an excessive amount of tags, but you don't need to have watched the show, he really is, not real tags but they are now, this is basically a, which is a mild not really spoiler, white collar au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5u_u__u5/pseuds/5u_u__u5
Summary: After losing everything, renowned con man Kim Seokjin turns himself over to the National Intelligence Service team pursuing him. In exchange for evading sentencing for his crimes, he is enlisted as a criminal informant under Special Agent Kim Namjoon, who promises to help find his family.





	1. Chapter 1

Seokjin honestly expected it to happen sooner. He had left so many clues, a trail a mile wide, and didn’t bother cleaning his tracks. Though he couldn’t fault Kim Namjoon for his caution. It wasn’t everyday a prominent con man practically broadcasted his location to his pursuers. Even so, of all people Seokjin expected Kim Namjoon to appreciate the irony. 

Currently, he stood in from the middle of the museum where he’d pulled off his first heist (as far as Kim Namjoon knew), admiring a sacrificial pavillion of the Greek exhibit. Though his appearance attracted some attention-a well fitting suit worked wonders with his face-it wasn’t the kind he was looking for. 

As he bit his lip in anticipation, he spotted a shorter figure out of the corner of his eye. If Min Yoongi was here then-ah yes, there he was. Tall as he was, Kim Namjoon still had a good few centimeters on Seokjin;this was incredibly apparent as the agent stepped up next to him. 

“Took you long enough, Namjoon.” Seokjin refused to look at the agent, though he knew the other had no qualms scanning him. Sighing, Seokjin stepped closer, eyes fixed on Namjoon’s loosened tie. 

“I suppose I put you through another all-nighter then. You look fairly disheveled.” Namjoon didn’t flinch as Seokjin adjusted his tie, eyes still fixed on Seokjin’s face. 

“You do too. As much as you can, anyways.” Namjoon noted. Seokjin smiled, finally meeting the agent’s eyes. Only Namjoon would note his undone hair, scuffed shoes and other markers of how little of a shit Seokjin gave anymore. 

“What do you mean? A man must always look his best, especially if he’s being arrested. That goes double for the arrester. I can’t have it going around that I was caught by some bum” Namjoon’s gaze remained unusually serious, though the agent was relatively serious in the context of their meetings. Seokjin suspected he had dimples, but had yet to see them.

“So that’s what this is then? No tricks, you’re just...giving up?” Seokjin’s smile was more of a grimace at that. Just a week ago the idea of him, Kim Seokjin,  _ giving up _ was so ludacris he would’ve laughed. Now he mostly felt like crying, but there would be plenty of time for that in prison. 

“Would you prefer a fight?” He murmured, giving Namjoon’s tie one final tug before dropping his hands, offering his wrists. 

“I’d prefer answers, but I know I won’t get any here. Promise you won’t run?” Seokjin would’ve scoffed, but Namjoon’s tone was sincere and he was so  _ tired.  _

“No point.”

“Then we can skip the handcuffs.” Seokjin was pretty sure he could hear Min Yoongi muttering complaints not too far away, but he knew better than to look the gift horse in his potentially-dimpled mouth. Glancing at the exhibit one last time, he followed after Namjoon, Min Yoongi trailing them like a ghost. Eventually the shorter agent passed them entirely, opening the door to a car that definitely screamed suspicious. 

As Namjoon slid in ahead of him, Seokjin looked behind him, taking in his last few moments as a free man. Then Yoongi shut the door and he was officially in custody. 

~

He had been ushered into what appeared to be an interrogation room, with a mirror mounted on one wall. Though he had been tempted to get up and check, the escorting agent (not Namjoon or Yoongi, they had disappeared shortly after handing him off) had handcuffed him to his chair. Tempted as he was to simply pick them, he was already facing an extensive sentence and didn’t think it would get him into any good books. 

He didn’t bother lifting his head when the door opened; presumably it was a lawyer of some kind, or another agent here to make use of the room. It turned out he was half right. 

“Seokjin-ssi, take a look at these.” Surprised at the sound of Namjoon’s voice, Seokjin raised his head. A folder was open on the table, blown up images taken off security cameras spread in front of him. Seokjin felt his blood run cold as two achingly familiar faces looked back at him. 

“Who are they?” Seokjin hated the pity in Namjoon’s voice-the agent’s emotions were an open book even when he was being professional. 

“Don’t you know?” Seokjin took comfort in the fact that his voice didn’t crack as he traced one finger along the photos. Though they were twins, everyone said Jisoo looked more like him than Taehyung, who’d inherited their dad’s strong features.

“Kim Taehyung, alias V. Kim Jisoo, alias Chu. Relationship unknown. Suspected associate, Kim Seokjin. Status unknown.” Namjoon read off the folder, eyes flickering to Seokjin’s face to gauge his reaction. 

“They’re twins. My little siblings. Everyone says they look more like me than each other, drives them crazy. Status….deceased as of last week.” Seokjin couldn’t bring himself to care how his voice trembled and broke, couldn’t bring himself to meet Namjoon’s eyes. 

“Is that why you turned yourself in?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

Namjoon hummed softly, producing another folder that he placed on top of the first one. Flipping it open with one finger, he spread the new batch of photos. It was Jisoo and Taehyung again, eating at some restaurant. While Seokjin loved the color pink, he couldn’t help but question Jisoo’s haircut. His sister pulled it off though, the same way Taehyung looked good blonde despite the mullet. He supposed they would’ve done this shortly before they died, as they made a point to update him on their disguises.

“Look at the timestamp.” Namjoon said softly, and Seokjin’s breath caught in his throat. The photos were dated three days ago...four days after they had died. His eyes filmed over and he blinked back tears. 

“I told them disguises made you lazy, I suppose this is proof.” Seokjin tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but knew he failed. The tight knot in his chest loosened ever-so-slightly, and he released a shaky breath. 

“So how long until my trial?” Depending on where he was sentenced-he had no doubt Namjoon’s team had sufficient evidence compiled- Seokjin could be out and about within three to four months. If his siblings could stay alive that long, he could see them again. 

“Well, that depends on you.” Namjoon began carefully. Seokjin blinked at him, completely unamused.

“What, you need my help with the evidence? You never did pin the October heist on me, I’ll show you my signature on the counterfeit. Or do you want those security tapes from a few months ago? I can’t guarantee them but I know a guy who might have backups-”

“Nothing like that. Though I’m now legally required to add the October heist to your file so thank you for that. No, I have a proposal for you.” The agent placed a slim silver band on the table. Upon closer inspection, Seokjin suspected it of being some kind of titanium alloy, and could see a raised bump that most likely contained a tracker. It seemed too large for his wrist-most likely an anklet.

“A gift for me? I’m touched, you shouldn’t have.” Seokjin fluttered his eyelashes, but kept his gaze on the tracker. 

“I spoke to a judge who’s willing to grant early parole as part of a work-release program. That is, you work for me as an official NIS consultant, and wear this. I’m sure you’ve noticed the tracker; the moment you step more than 5 kilometers from  _ my  _ GPS location or mess with it in any way, a task force sweeps you directly to prison.” Namjoon explained, one hand resting on the anklet. Seokjin eyed him a moment., suspicious. 

“And what exactly do you get out of helping the man you’ve been chasing for so many years? I’m sure my face isn’t the only reason you’re keeping me close.” While Namjoon didn’t exactly laugh, his answering huff made Seokjin feel somewhat triumphant. 

“I  _ know  _ you. Not as well as I’d like, but I know the moment you go into prison I’ll be back to chasing your ass within half a year.” Namjoon said, a slight scowl on his face as he leaned back.

“You give me too little credit. And I have a fantastic ass, it’s not the worst thing to chase.”  Seokjin was certain Namjoon was holding something back, and the sooner he got the agent to spill, the sooner he could properly consider this ‘proposal’. Namjoon sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the other tapping on the photos. 

“Who do you think got these?  _ My  _ team. The same team that figured out who they were, who they  _ are  _ to  _ you. _ The Service doesn’t know about them beyond their aliases, officially they’ve dropped off the grid and we’re happy to leave them there. But if you take my deal, I promise you we’ll help you find them.” Namjoon’s words radiated sincerity, and Seokjin found himself considering it seriously. 

Escaping prison was simply a matter of when, but finding his siblings was a question of  _ how. _ Though a few of his contacts could be of some help, his initially estimate of a year was being generous considering how long it would take to get back on his feet. And despite the officialness of the National Intelligence Service, Seokjin knew they could operate well beyond any underground networks. On the other hand, while the proposed deal was relatively loose, it didn’t seem to have any particular time limit, meaning he could theoretically be working for the government for the rest of his life. 

“Not even I can pull off being bald. I accept your deal, Kim Namjoon. Though I expect you to hold up your end.” At worst he could enlist some help in faking his own death a few years down the road. 

~

“Do you know how uncomfortable this thing is? I swear whoever made this entirely of metal was  _ not  _ thinking things through.” Seokjin complained, tugging his pants leg down over the tracker. He’s gotten his suit jacket and socks back shortly after agreeing to Namjoon’s deal, though he supposed they’d found the lockpick in his tie pin as he hadn’t gotten  _ that  _ back. As he straightened and adjusted his jacket, he noticed Namjoon staring. 

“What? Is it my face?” Seokjin knew very well that that wasn’t it (he could  _ tell  _ when it was), but poor jokes seemed to work best on snapping Namjoon out of his thoughts. 

“No. It’s just...you’re very talkative.” Namjoon admitted, brows slightly furrowed. Seokjin held back a snicker. 

“I prefer charming, but thank you.” At that Namjoon shook his head, slightly exasperated. They exited the room he’d been held in and started for the elevator, waiting in front of the closed doors.

“When I was first assigned to your case, we didn’t even have a name. No photo either. Just a series of heists with the same modus operandi. The ghost of a ghost. Two years later, and you’re….ridiculous.” Seokjin thought he should take offense, but Namjoon seemed genuinely confused as they entered the lift. 

“Why yes, I am  _ ridiculously  _ handsome. This face gets you places, you know.” Seokjin replied, blase as he could be considering the circumstances. 

“Not what I mean. Well, a little bit. When we finally got your photo none of us could actually believe it was you. Yoongi was convinced you’d hired some actor as a body double, but we couldn’t find a match in the database so it had to be you. And the moment we got  _ something  _ on you, you became aware of us.” Seokjin snickered at that; he’d noticed the interest in him from a little before his slip-up, but wasn’t planning on telling Namjoon. 

“I will admit, teasing you became the highlight of my heists, almost more than the loot. Almost.” Seokjin had taken some pleasure in finding who exactly was after him, figuring out how to press their buttons. 

The doors dinged open and Namjoon led him down a hallway to a pair of double doors. Inside was an open office space, computer topped desks leading neatly to a glass wall office accessible by a staircase. Clustered by the staircase were three agents who looked up as they entered. 

“Guys, this is Kim Seokjin.” Two of them burst into chatter immediately while the third, more familiar figure regarded him coolly. 

“I take it you're not very excited to see me,  _ Suga-ssi? _ ” Seokjin knew he'd hit a nerve when a scowl crept across Min Yoongi's face. The undercover agent had caused quite a storm when he'd nearly single handedly taken down the Baq syndicate; Seokjin knew of a few people who'd like the agent's head, and one who was taking a shot at it. 

“Don't call me that, Kim Seokjin.” Yoongi bit back. 

“Call me hyung and I won't. You're a friend of a friend, I'd like us to be close.”  _ And the target of another _ , but he didn't say that part of loud. “That goes for the rest of you as well.” He added, eyeing Namjoon. 

“So you're really him then? Do you know how much trouble I've had getting past some of your encryptions? Don't get me  _ started _ on your online presence-" A well-built young man jumped in eagerly. Seokjin smiled indulgently. 

“I'm glad to hear I gave the Golden Boy himself a run for his money. It's nice to officially meet you, Jeon Jungkook. And you must be Lisa.” The tall girl seemed startled he knew her name, but bounced back easily. 

“Yep that's me! I'd say it's nice to meet you but you've been keeping me employed as of late so we'll see.” Seokjin could see why Jisoo had taken an interest in her, but he didn't particularly feel like telling the Thai girl how close she'd come to capturing his baby sister. 

“I'm sure you'll find a new target in no time.” He said instead, winking at her for good measure. 

“That's enough of that. Seokin-ssi, come with me we have some things to discuss.” Namjoon called from the top of the stairs. Giving an exaggerated bow to the giggling agents (and Yoongi), he skipped up the steps and entered the office. 

Leaning against the edge of the desk he watched as Namjoon shuffled through some files. 

“Last I checked I asked to be called hyung, Namjoonie.” Seokjin was pleased to note the agent’s grimace at the nickname. 

“You really like making people uncomfortable, don't you?” Namjoon asked, finally looking up at him. 

“Not uncomfortable, just on edge. Besides, I don't think you'd appreciate my type of… comfort.” Seokjin leaned forward suggestively, only mildly hurt when Namjoon brushed him off entirely. 

“Enough. It’s time to head out, I’ll take you to where you’ll be staying.” Namjoon forged ahead before Seokjin could open his mouth, making it to the elevator in the time it took for Seokjin to bid the agents farewell. 

“So what second-rate apartment/hovel am I going to have to sweet talk my way out of?” Seokjin joked, trying to lift the stifling silence. 

“None, you’ll be staying with me. My condo has two floors.” Namjoon said, keeping his eyes straight ahead as Seokjin gaped at him. 

“You sure you’re not dabbling in my side of the law there? How could you possibly afford that on your salary?” Seokjin asked, trying to regain a straight face.

“Yoongi used to be my roommate, moved out after his undercover work ended. Now that you’re staying I’m getting a...stipend of sorts to keep you.” Namjoon revealed as they stepped out of the elevator and made towards the parking lot. Any other day Seokjin would be analyzing the floorplan and making note of possible escapeways, but he figured he’d have plenty of time later on down the road;at the moment he was processing the fact that he would be  _ living  _ with  _ Kim Namjoon _ . For an indeterminate amount of time. 

Namjoon’s car was more nondescript than he expected, but the agent had never struck him as the type to spring for a flashy ride. As he slid into his seat, the leg of his pants rode up slightly, revealing the anklet. He pouted at it, grumbling a little under his breath before turning his attention to the window. He was aware that Namjoon was glancing at him every so often, and was debating calling him out on it before deciding the agent had been plenty generous for the day. 

As expected, the ride was incredibly quiet with Seokjin on his best behavior, and the lights of the city began to bleed into each other as they drove. Eventually they pulled up under an impressive building, Namjoon not having said a word the whole time. To Seokjin’s surprise, the agent opened his door for him, waiting patiently for him to get out before leading them to the elevator. 

Once the appropriate floor had been selected and accessed with a key, Seokjin stole a glance at Namjoon. The agent, apparently, was not naturally silent, and seemed to be in deep thought. Namjoon happened to meet his glance, and Seokjin winked. The door opened before Namjoon could say anything of it, and Seokjin brushed forward, instantly taken with the layout.

It was about what he expected out of the agent-comfortable looking furniture and rows upon rows of books. Odd artefacts lined the shelf above the fireplace, not of any particular anthropological value but interesting nonetheless. While he particularly wanted to investigate the impressive kitchen, Namjoon had wandered to a flight of stairs tucked away in the corner. 

“My room is through this door here, yours is upstairs. I haven’t really moved anything that Yoongi left, so feel free to. Go on ahead, I’ll grab you something to change into, we’re about the same size I think.” Namjoon gestured to a door jto the right of the stairs, then moved towards it himself, leaving Seokjin to climb. 

The palette was par for the course that was Yoongi, dark reds and deep browns. He was however pleasantly surprised by the mahogany furniture; it seemed they had the same taste in antiques. It was somewhat smaller than the downstairs floor, and the kitchen was much smaller. A quick investigation revealed the bedroom and the bathroom, both bare but neatly kept. The dining area was set off to the side of the kitchen, and floor length windows along the farthest wall led to balcony doors. The place seemed well taken care of-Seokjin suspected he and Yoongi would make good roommates.

“Do you mind the color pink?” Namjoon’s voice floated up from the stairwell, and Seokjin turned to receive him. The agent was carrying two pillows, a set of sheets, a blanket, and what appeared to be a bright pink sweatshirt on top of them all. 

“All this is for me?” Seokjin asked in lieu of a response. The agent dropped his stack on the couch, leaning against it. 

“I realized there’s no other linens up here, so you’ll need this to sleep. I’m pretty sure the bathroom is still stocked, so I didn’t bring any of that. You dodged the pink question, but leaving that aside, is takeout ok for dinner?” Namjoon responded, patting the top of his stack. 

“If I told you what I thought of pink, I’d have to kill you,” It was actually his favorite color, but he didn’t want Namjoon to have that information,“and you have that amazing kitchen but don’t use it? What kind of monster are you?” Seokjin asked, exaggerating his facial expressions as he held up the sweatshirt. It was too long for him-curse Namjoon’s height-but would fit his shoulders nicely. A pair of black sweatpants was folded neatly under the sweatshirt-snatching that, he leaned back to hear Namjoon’s answer.

“The kind that really can’t cook. Go ahead and get changed, food should be here soon.” With that, Namjoon swept down the stairs. Seokjin left to try on his new clothes. He took one look at the sweatpants pooling around his ankles and decided the mid-thigh sweatpants were sufficient. Maybe if Namjoon had better posture the difference in height would be more apparent, but it took wearing his clothes to realize how much taller the agent was. At least he was broader-the sweatshirt was perhaps just a little snug. 

Skipping down the stairs, he found Namjoon sorting through take-out boxes, not so subtly sneaking a piece into his mouth here or there. Upon seeing Seokjin he promptly choked on a piece of chicken, and Seokjin snickered. Pounding the agent on the back once or twice, he procured a box for himself along with a pair of chopsticks and made his way to the couch. 

“You have like, ridiculously long legs.” He told Namjoon around a mouthful of food. The agent glared reproachfully at Seokjin’s bare feet propped up on the coffee table, but the con made no effort to move them. If he had to live with the anklet, Namjoon would be reminded of it constantly.

“I suppose that’s why you’re not wearing any pants?” Namjoon asked, most likely trying to be discreet. 

“If I have to climb up and down stairs for the duration of my stay, I’d rather not increase my chances of tripping. Unless you have a problem with this, in which case my broken neck is on your conscious.” Seokjin smiled as sweetly as he could, celebrating silently when Namjoon grumbled into his takeout.  He was fairly sure Namjoon was straight, and teasing straight people always put Seokjin in a good mood. 

“So, do I have to get up at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow or do you government goons have an actual schedule.” Seokjin asked curiously. Namjoon blinked at him, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. 

“Unless a certain someone puts us through an all nighter, we tend to get home for dinner. As for tomorrow, I guess be ready around 8.” Namjoon concluded, coincidentally finishing his takeout. After they had cleaned up, Namjoon lingered by his bedroom door as Seokjin approached the stairs. 

“.... Goodnight, Seokjin-hyung.” 

“Goodnight, Namjoon!” Seokin didn't ponder how quick his own response was, too shocked by Namjoon's responding smile.  _ Dimples _ . Seokjin climbed the stairs in a daze, attempting to wipe the smile off his face. A few steps in and he was aware that he had a guest.

“Say, Jin-hyung, when you said you'd be doing something stupid, I really didn't think  _ this _ was the plan.” A familiar voice reached him as he stepped onto his floor. 

“Actually, the original plan was to go to prison and wallow in my misery.” Seokin slid into the seat opposite his red-haired visitor. A glass of wine was set out for him, the bottle between them. 

“And what made you switch directions so drastically? Collared by some government suit?” His guest prompted, fingering the stem of his glass.

“They're alive, Hobi. Taehyung and Jisoo are  _ alive.  _ And that ‘government suit’ can help me find them.” Seokjin couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice, wrapping his fingers around his own glass. 

“So I suppose your new friends are of more help to you, then?” Hobi raised an eyebrow, his perpetual smile turned to a smirk. 

“It’s good to have friends in high places, but their searchlights tend to miss what’s in the shadows, exactly where you thrive. The bright spot in the darkness. Meanwhile, I get to straddle that lovely little gray area between you and them. With all our bases covered, not even my beloved siblings can remain hidden for long. ” Seokin smiled over his glass.

“A toast then. To finding family, covering bases, and little gray areas.” The two raised their glasses and drank silently. 

“So how exactly did you get in here?”


	2. 2

Namjoon was confused. This in itself was unusual, as he was intelligent to the point where there was very little that confused him. That was partially why he'd become an agent in the first place- the opportunity to solve the unsolvable. That was entirely the reason he'd taken on Kim Seokjin's case; what was initially a file of unsolvable coincidences yielded carefully thought out plans with perfect attention to detail and deadly precision. 

What he'd first identified as the mysterious con’s calling card quickly became an intricate puzzle, every move intentioned and underlaid with double meaning. As he unraveled each mystery, he felt almost as if he were unraveling the person behind them. Kim Seokjin became less a spector; now he was a meticulous perfectionist, with an eye for detail, an appreciation for the ironic, and a few bad habits. 

Exploiting those habits yielded them their first real glance at the man behind the file, giving the ghost flesh and blood. And then he'd taken notice. Suddenly, the calling card Namjoon had tracked became more and more complex, encrypted and layered enough to send him on a whirlwind scavenger hunt, for once stranding him without an answer. And when he did find his answers, they came out of the left field. Seokjin's very name came to them through a god awful pun. 

And when Lisa had announced his final location, Namjoon had recognized his intentions from the beginning. He couldn't deny he was excited to meet the person he'd spent many sleepless nights over; Seokjin's grief only added a layer of tragedy to the drama that played out between the two of them. When Namjoon had revealed what he knew of the twins and given his proposal he'd fully expected to be refused, that Seokjin would prefer to escape on his own merit and their great game could continue. 

Instead, he was blindsided by Seokjin's agreement, smacked in the face by a larger than life personality. The calm, collected maestro of maurade gave way to a flippant, vain flirt. The person who laid intricate plans and danced through his fingers seemed completely alien to the teaser with a preoccupation with his own face. 

And just as he'd begun to accept his impression of Seokjin to be overblown, incompatible with reality, he noticed a calculation to Seokjin's crudity. The con poked and prodded until Namjoon was teetering on the edge, pulling back just before he overstepped. The seemingly innocuous comments became counterintelligence, veiled in the subterfuge of inconspicuity. Namjoon could finally begin to reconcile  _ this  _ Seokjin with the one he'd so painstakingly pieced together. 

But just when he'd found Seokjin's every move to be have a double-meaning, the con went and did something like refuse to wear pants simply because they didn't fit, flying in the face of everything Namjoon thought he knew. Perhaps he was being a touch dramatic, but the confusion had kept him up nearly the entire night, and still his thoughts were preoccupied by the horrifyingly confusing Seokjin. 

That very same half-naked, confusing Seokjin was now, apparently, making him breakfast. 

“Ah, Namjoon, you’re awake. Your kitchen is terribly under-stocked.” Seokjin looked about the same as he always did-as gorgeous as the artworks he stole-but particularly soft in Namjoon’s old sweatshirt. The con-and he  _ was  _ a con, Namjoon found the need to remind himself-waved a spatula at him as scrambled eggs cooked in the pan on the stove. 

“You have a kitchen on your floor too?” Namjoon questioned, hesitant to enter his own kitchen. Seokjin scoffed as if he his words offended him to his very core.

“The last time I saw something that small was at a college dorm.” Seokjin declared, one hand on his hip as he scraped the eggs onto a plate. 

“You went to college?” Finally, Namjoon managed to get his legs to move him into the kitchen, halting before the coffee machine. It gave a sputtering groan before completely breaking down. No coffee for Namjoon. 

“Well, not for the academics per say. There was a special night for uni students at a nearby museum, real one of a kind exhibit, hit the jackpot that night to be honest-” It seemed provoking Namjoon was Seokjin’s goal all along, as the con cut off his rambling immediately at Namjoon’s groan, oddly similar to the coffee machine’s.

“And how exactly did  _ you  _ pass off as a college student?” Namjoon asked cautiously. He wondered if he would get the expected response, or would this be one of those out-of-the-blue moments he’d come to admire.

“Have you seen this face?” Namjoon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The predictability disappointed him, but there were few things that didn’t. Meanwhile, Seokjin had begun humming a nonsensical tune, and turned to him with a plate proffered. 

“Breakfast, because we can’t all operate on coffee.” Seokjin flashed him a small smile as he took the plate. 

“Oh, I don’t like mushrooms-” Namjoon called after Seokjin, who whirled around with a look of surprise. 

“Oops! Mixed up the plates, here.” Seokjin traded plates quickly, moving off towards the couch. Namjoon looked at the new plate and suppressed a shudder. It was at first glance, his perfect omelette: every ingredient was on his favorites list, mixed with the ideal ratio. Namjoon knew,  _ knew  _ that it would taste just as good as when his mother made it. And that was the problem;it was  _ his  _ perfect omelette, a deeply personal recipe that not even his friends knew. For all intents and purposes, it was a threat, Seokjin’s way of reminding him who he was under the domestic facade.  

“This is good.” Namjoon commented, settling on the opposite end of the couch. Seokjin had his legs spread, the plate on the cushion in between them. 

“Took me a while to get the recipe right, but I think I did it justice.” Seokjin said, one cheek stuffed with egg. Namjoon processed this, trying to understand the underlying meaning. 

“So, I don’t know what you have here in terms of dry-cleaning, but I can’t exactly re-wear my suit tomorrow, and I doubt our coworkers would appreciate me showing up like this. Or maybe they would, I do have very nice legs, with a new fancy piece of jewelry, and I don’t know  _ too  _ much about them. You tell me, Namjoon, what should I do?” Seokjin asked,genuine curiosity on his face. 

“What exactly do you want from me, hyung?” Namjoon sighed, wondering exactly how high-maintenance this con was going to be. 

“Ideally, about one hour to do anything, no questions asked, I’d even stay on my leash, for your peace of mind. But since this is not an ideal world, I’ll settle for raiding your closet.” Seokjin said lightly, flashing him a close-mouthed smile. 

Five minutes later, Seokjin strolled out of Namjoon’s room looking more hipster than Namjoon had ever managed himself. Despite being tight around his shoulders, Seokjin had to tuck the extra length of the plaid shirt material into a pair of skinny jeans Namjoon honestly forgot he owned but Seokjin made look a thousand times better. Namjoon himself had kept to slacks and a collared shirt, his suit jacket slung carelessly over his shoulder.

“Are you finally ready?” Namjoon was perhaps more exasperated than was warranted, but he could only take so many surprises from the con without his daily dose of caffeine. 

“I am, but you’re not. I’ll have you know I keep a certain company, and ‘disheveled’ hasn’t been in season for a quite some time.” Seokjin had, somehow, managed to get close enough to take the tie from his hand and loop it around his neck. Briefly, Namjoon wondered if this was his plan, string him along then string him up. But then deft hands were tying a knot and patting his shoulder with approval.

“Now we can go.” 

A touch suspiciously, Seokjin was silent up until the point where their car was pulling out of the parking lot, simply staring out the window. Abruptly, he sat up and looked at Namjoon.

“There’s a good coffee shop just up ahead. I know you didn’t get any, do you think we could stop by?” He asked, eyes practically sparkling. As much as Namjoon wanted to argue, he really wasn’t up to form without his daily dose of caffeine, and there was only so much Seokjin could do within his range of vision. Besides the odd event here or there, the con had been relatively well-behaved within the last 24 hours, and Namjoon was  _ pretty  _ sure he hadn’t spiked breakfast. 

He pulled off by a small cafe under Seokjin’s direction. It seemed quaint enough, not particularly busy. Seokjin practically bounced up to the counter, less a suave master thief than a hyperactive child.

“Good morning, what can I get you today?” The barista at the cash register was unusually chipper for the hour, with a high clear voice. His eyes were curved into crescents with the force of his smile, and Namjoon thought he seemed like a cheerful person.

“Morning cutie! I’m a bit of a regular, never seen you here before!” Seokjin seemed to be mimicking the barista, lightening the tone of his voice and leaning forward over the counter. Namjoon had no idea if that was true, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The idea of the man he’d been chasing being a regular at a cafe less than a five minute walk away from him didn’t sit right. The worker flushed a little, averting his eyes ever so slightly. 

“Uh, well, I’m new, just started this week.” He murmured, ducking his head as Seokjin cooed. 

“Wow, how’re you finding it? It’s an ok crowd, but I know some of these guys can be real ruffians.” Seokjin moved even closer, whispering the last part conspiratorially.

“I, uh, actually wouldn’t mind seeing some new faces around here? Not that I’m complaining! But all business is good business, I guess?” Namjoon wasn’t sure it was humanly possible to blush that much, but here they were. 

“Oh you’re adorable! I’ll be sure to spread the word. And stop by more often if they keep cuties like you in stock.” Seokjin practically purred. Namjoon wondered at what point he was supposed to step in and stop this...flirting, it was really just outright flirting.

“Seokjin-hyung, I think we should order already? I’ll have a triple shot espresso, please.” Namjoon directed the last part to the barista, who dutifully wrote it down. Seokjin relayed a sickeningly sweet order with too much caramel for one person and “a sweet treat, cutie’s choice”. Seokjin’s wink didn’t pay for their order, but Namjoon was sure that it would, had it been up to the barista.

Their orders were out with surprising speed, along with Seokjin’s treat, a sugar cookie “almost as sweet as you!” Namjoon ignored Seokjin’s response in favor of gulping his first sip of piping hot liquid. He had to admit the coffee here was pretty good. 

“Do you always do...that?” Namjoon asked, attempting to sound uninterested. Dazzled witnesses of all genders he’d interviewed after heists confirmed Seokjin’s charms, but it was his first time witnessing it for himself. 

“You got a problem? He was a little cutie, look at the cookie he gave me!” A very small cat had been drawn in icing on top of it. 

“And if he’d reacted...wrong?” Seokjin didn’t bother to hide his smirk, biting into the cookie with gusto.  

“I’m very much in the business of knowing things. For example, I think one Min Yoongi-ssi would quite like that cafe.” Seokjin gave him a lopsided grin, sipping on his sickeningly sweet drink. 

“I’m gonna have to ask you not to meddle in my subordinate’s love lives.” Seokjin snorted, spilling some of his drink

“What love life? And I meant the coffee, genius. It’s quite good, and Yoongi has a sweet tooth.” Namjoon wondered if it would be childish to tell Seokjin that he was stupid.  _ Yes, yes it would be. _

Aside from Seokjin’s uninhibited slurping noises, the ride to the office was without conversation. Namjoon wondered if that was better or not. Without saying a word, Seokjin still managed to occupy his thoughts; at the very least when the con was talking Namjoon was receiving new information. 

“Boss! I got something for ya.” Lisa nearly toppled him over as they exited the elevator, catching herself and thrusting a file at him. 

“This is...the Hangaram Art Center?” Namjoon asked, eyeing the report. Lisa nodded enthusiastically. 

“They have a new exhibit this week-a collection by Monet. It was supposed to open in two days, but  _ somehow  _ an entire painting has gone missing. Service wants us to investigate, Yoongi-oppa is already there.” Namjoon sighed, making an about-face back to the elevator. 

“Nice seeing you, Lisa!” Seokjin called, giving her the rest of his cookie.

“You too, Seokjin-oppa. Go get em’, boss-nim!” She called as the doors closed after them Seokjin snickered, still drinking his stupid drink. 

“Why does she only call me that to bother me?” Namjoon wondered aloud.

“I think it’s cute!” 

“I’ve known you for less than 24 hours and can say with certainty you find  _ everything  _ cute.” Namjoon said dryly, dropping his coffee cup into a trash bin as he exited the elevator. 

“Not true. I don’t think  _ you’re  _ cute.” Namjoon jumped as Seokjin’s lips nearly brushed against the shell of his ear; he hadn’t noticed the con getting so close.

“What  _ do  _ you think of me?” Namjoon asked, opening the car door for Seokjin, who gave him a secretive smile as he slid in.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

~

After flashing his badge, Namjoon gained entrance to the gallery with Seokjin in tow, met by an irate Yoongi and a frantic curator. 

“Choi-ssi, this is my immediate superior, Kim Namjoon. I’m sure he’ll be able to handle each and every one of your many questions.” With the air of someone who had disposed of something unpleasant, Yoongi waved off Choi and appraised Seokjin, who was holding out the remainder of his drink. 

“This cafe is really good, you should try some.”

“I think that much sugar might actually kill me.”

“We both know that isn’t true, Yoongi of the sweet tooth.”

Satisfied that Yoongi wasn’t going to kill his criminal informant, Namjoon turned his attention back to the curator, who had been fussing.

“Choi-ssi, I believe it would be beneficial to  _ see  _ the site of the crime, if you will?” Namjoon asked as politely as he could. 

“But of course! You absolutely  _ must  _ find this painting, it’s imperative you do so in order to properly open the exhibit-” Choi expressed a great deal of concerns on the way to the exhibit, and while Namjoon truly attempted to pay attention, he was more concerned with the way Seokjin lingered on certain paintings. 

Eventually, they made it to the door, where they crossed through the caution tape and entered the gallery. Seokjin made his way to the corner of the room, seemingly admiring the remaining paintings while Yoongi loitered around the entrance, having examined the crime scene before. It was incredibly apparent where the missing painting was-front and center to the whole exhibit was an empty frame, jagged edges suggesting the painting was cut out rather hurriedly. 

Namjoon examined the frame closely, noting the position of the security cameras. There were no apparent blind spots, but somehow the painting had been cut out and ferried away without notice. 

“Send the security tapes to my team. I also want this frame swabbed for prints, traces, anything the perp might’ve left behind.” He murmured to a forensic agent, who nodded and scurried off. Seokjin had nearly concluded his circuit, paused in front of one in particular. Namjoon moved to join him

“Sloppy work for your standards, I suppose?” He asked Seokjin, who only smiled broadly. 

“Actually, pretty damn impressive. Really, he almost had me too, if only I weren’t such a fan.” Seokjin commented, that demented smile never leaving his face. Namjoon turned to him, brows knit in confusion. 

“Say, what do you make of this one?” Namjoon stared at the painting impassively. While he was an admirer of the arts, the case on hand was more pending. 

“Monet had a very..distinctive style. Makes forgeries rather tricky; you can only get so far with copying the strokes, there’s always something to distinguish the original. Makes robberies like this all the more high-stake.” Seokjin murmured, running a hand just above the frame of the stolen painting. 

“You know what the subject of this painting is?” Seokjin asked, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

“It says  _ Red Mullets _ on the card..?” 

“A mullet is a type of fish. Ever hear of the expression ‘red herring’?” Seokjin asked, breaking into giggles. Namjoon felt the first hint of suspicion growing. 

“Get on with it.” Seokjin shrugged. 

“Can I borrow that knife of yours?” Namjoon made no move to give it to him, watching as Seokjin huffed impatiently and stepped forward, slipping his hand in and out of Namjoon’s pocket before the agent could so much as protest. 

He watched as Seokjin worked at the two top screws, catching the grate before it could clatter on the ground. Rolling up his sleeve and reaching into the grate, Seokjin slowly withdrew a long plastic tube. Carefully opening the top, Seokjin tipped its contents out onto a handkerchief. Soon, the con was holding a slim roll of canvas out to Namjoon, who took it with gloved hands and unrolled it. Two fish and one Seokjin stared at him, one significantly more entertained than the other two. 

“What... _ exactly  _ does this mean?” Namjoon asked carefully, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Seokjin’s grin only grew wider, confirming his suspicions. The con leaned forward conspiratorially.

“Ah well first, your knife. And your wallet. I’d like to keep the watch?”

“Give me my watch back.” Seokjin handed the items over, dangling the watch for a moment before letting it drop through his fingers. 

“Seokjin-hyung. What  _ exactly  _ does this mean?”

“Don’t tell Choi-ssi, he might have a heart attack,”

“Seokjin, you’ve gotta be fucking with me.” Namjoon hissed, looking nervously around the room. If Seokjin was right...

“It would appear, dear Namjoonie, that  _ every painting here is counterfeit.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Namjoon overthinks.  
> So people actually read and liked this, thank you so much!  
> My update schedule is pretty straightforward: I like to keep a one chapter buffer between updates.  
> So as soon as I finish the chapter after the upcoming one and do some editing, I'll publish the next chapter.  
> Again, thank you for reading!


	3. 3

It had been four days since the incident at the Hangaram Art Center, and Seokjin had never been more entertained. While Choi hadn’t had a heart attack, he  _ did  _ faint, then promptly demand they find the paintings when he came to. The rest of the team found themselves scrambling frantically to find  _ any  _ trace of the thief. While Seokjin had been more than happy to tell them, the team insister on an authenticator confirming that the remaining paintings were counterfeit. 

“Hobi, did you take a look at the security footage from the coffee shop across the street?” Seokjin asked, tapping the map thoughtfully. Hobi nodded, a slight grin on his face.

“Time frames match up and everything, just like you suggested. I got a positive ID on him and everything. How’d you know?” Hobi asked, tracing his finger along the escape route Seokjin had explained to him. 

“Just went along with what I would do. A quick look at the security footage confirmed it. Plus, my suspicions were right; the guy got sloppy, and you got her name. I can’t really trace who hacked the security system, which is a pity, since I doubt our little thief could do it herself. Who is she, by the way?” Seokjin asked, humming to himself.

“Kim Dahyun, the lady behind the Klimt scam a few months back. If my intel is correct the hacker is an associate of hers, Son Chaeyoung, who hopped on a plane and left the country two days ago, so dead end there. But still plenty for the feds to pick up Kim Dahyun. How exactly did you get a computer long enough to do this?” Hobi asked, sweeping aside the maps to pull out a folder of his own. 

“I told Jungkookie I wouldn’t tell on him for playing Overwatch at work if he let me watch cat videos for an hour. Got what I needed pretty quickly, it won’t take them too long. Now what can you tell me about my siblings?” Seokjin leaned over Hobi’s shoulder, peering at his files. 

“The brats are almost as good as you. Caught Taetae at the grocery store, Jisoo in a boutique of some kind. Separate incidents across a couple of European countries. Best I can tell, they’re making their way to the States the old fashioned way.” Hobi pointed out each blurry photo, noting the timestamp on the footage and tracing along a map.

“But still nothing on  _ why _ ?” Seokjin asked softly. Hobi shook his head, his usual smile turned to a pout.

“For that, you’ll have to find out who wanted them dead.” Hobi murmured. 

“Easier said than done.” Seokjin raked his hand through his hair, pacing a moment before turning back with a sigh.   

“Enough depressing talk, how’s my sweet Suga?” Hobi asked, eyebrows raised. He had been on retainer of sorts within the Baq syndicate during Yoongi’s undercover stint and had gotten quite close to the double agent, despite knowing his identity via Seokjin. 

“Jiminie is in town.” Was Seokjin’s only response. Hobi’s eyes widened briefly before his full face collapsed into a pout. 

“Aww but Yoongi’s too young to die!”

“He’s older than you?”

“You think they’d make a good couple?”

“Hobi, friends don’t set friends up with their would-be assasins.” Seokjin chided, no real heat to his words. He was of the opinion they’d be a fiery, passionate couple who would go out in a blaze of glory, sucking face probably. 

“Speaking of friends, how’s your new roommate? You seem comfy and all, wearing literally just a hoodie.  _ HIs  _ hoodie, I might add.” Seokjin groaned, settling into the seat next to Hobi.

“His pants are ridiculously long, I really need access to my own wardrobe. Plus, I think it makes him uncomfortable, which is a nice bonus.” Hobi raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“Is making the guy who could send you to prison uncomfortable really the best course of action, hyung?” Seokjin snorted, shrugging carelessly. 

“We both know I wouldn’t be there for long. Some time, yes, but the moment I get out is the moment he loses me for good, since he never caught me in the first place. His curiosity’s half the reason I’m in this deal, and it’ll be the reason I stay. Don’t you worry about hyung, I know what I’m doing.” Seokjin said confidently, patting Hobi on the shoulder.

“If you say so. Oh, one more thing. Apparently Kim Dahyun is scheduled to meet with a fence for the paintings sometime tomorrow, I’ll try to get the location and time. Assuming your suits don’t slap her studio with a warrant first.” Hobi said, smiling as Seokjin yawned. 

“Since I’m keeping an office drone schedule, I do need sleep to be awake tomorrow. If you could be a dear and get me that address and time, that would be great, Hobi.” Seokjin yawned again, undoing the top few buttons of his-or more accurately Namjoon’s-shirt. While the agent had promised to take him shopping at some point, he had in reality continued to simply loan him clothes from his unimpressive wardrobe. Seokjin was considering having Hobi sneak in a few of his favorites, wondering whether Namjoon would notice or not. 

“You got it, hyung. Sleep well, we’ll find them soon.” Hobi called after him. Seokjin waved him off before taking off his shirt entirely, exchanging it for the pink hoodie. It really was quite comfortable, and Seokjin found himself drifting to sleep quickly. 

The next morning, Seokjin woke to his alarm ringing and a post-it note on his forehead.Quickly memorizing the address and time, Seokjin zipped through his morning routine and made his way down the stairs, unsurprised to find Namjoon asleep on the coffee table. While Seokjin’s presence required the agent to physically return home, Namjoon insisted on pulling his all-nighters regardless. Unperturbed, Seokjin went about making breakfast, settling on pancakes for the day. He gave the coffee machine a cursory glance, making sure Namjoon hadn’t gotten it fixed. Seokjin wondered if the agent knew he broke it-unlikely, but Namjoon had a propensity towards surprising him. 

The smell of pancakes lured zombie Namjoon into the kitchen, hair mussed up and voice deep and rough from sleep. A few pointed words from Seokjn sent him ambling to the bathroom to wash up as Seokjin flipped his creations onto a plate. It was as domestic as a forced cohabitation between a government agent and master-class con man could be. 

“So I was thinking.” Seokjin began as Namjoon dug into the food. “I know we’ve been pretty busy with this little case and all, and you haven’t really had time to get coffee before work. But since I’m not doing much, I thought I could stop by the cafe myself today? It’s walking distance from here and work, plus within my radius. I’ll order you something good, I promise.” Seokjin coaxed, making his voice pleading. Namjoon swallowed his bite and regarded him. 

“You really want to see that barista, huh?”  _ Guilty as charged _ , Seokjin thought, but instead smiled as wide as he could and nodded enthusiastically. 

“Fine. But if you’re not a work within half an hour, I’m setting off all the alarms. All of them.” Namjoon waved his fork threateningly, and Seokjin fought to keep the smile off his face. 

Five minutes later, Seokjin was at the cafe, leaning over the counter and gushing at the barista. 

“Jiminie! I’m back, like I said I would be! Are you having your break soon? You should come sit with me!” Seokjin thought perhaps he was going a little over the top, and Jimin’s suppressed eye roll suggested he thought the same, but the barista managed a smile back at him. 

“Sure Seokjin-ssi! I was planning on it soon enough anyways, just let me get your order together.” Seokjin nodded amicably and took a seat by a window table, waiting for Jimin to slide in front of him. The barista appeared soon enough, plopping the ordered drinks down on the table along with a box of pastries, surprisingly graceless for the top hitman of the Baq syndicate.

“No handler today?” He questioned, voice low and furtive but a pleasant smile on his face. Seokjin sipped at his drink and made an appreciative sound. 

“I’ve been a good boy so he’s letting me tug at my leash. How’s it going with sweet Suga? Also, laugh like I’ve made a wonderful joke.” Seokjin murmured, flashing his brightest smile. Jimin laughed accordingly, hand going to cover his mouth. Keeping it there, he leaned forward to look at Seokjin closer. 

“Your little collar come with a mic or anything?” Seokjin shrugged. 

“Doubt Hobi would be paying me visits if it did. He’s well, in case you were wondering.” Jimin shifted in his seat, surprise written on his face.

“Hobi-hyung is in town? Huh! I suppose he wouldn’t want me to kill his friend, but I can’t say it’s going well. The guy came like once two days ago, hasn’t dropped by since.”

“Ah, there’s a new case we’re working on. Art Center heist, I gotta go earn my worth today actually. Probably keeping him busy. I’ll have to ask you hold off on taking him out at least until I get out of this thing.” Seokjin slapped his thigh, laughing like he’d made a joke. His anklet slid along his calf before settling back at his ankle. Jimin giggled along with him, hiding his hands in his sweater paws. 

“Anything for you, hyung. Can’t say I have much of a time limit, but it does need to be done. Why are we pretending so much if there’s no recording happening?” Jimin asked, tilting his head cutely. 

“I’ve got Namjoon convinced I’m after you, gotta make the flirting look convincing in case they investigate you after I leave. You disappearing after murdering their coworker won’t look very good, but I think we can avoid them making a connection here.” Seokjin smiled, winking at Jimin, who pouted back.

“I can’t blame him, I do have a sweet ass. So that’s your plan then? Find Taetae and Chichu, then escape your little contract and live happily ever after?” 

“You’re free to come find us Chimchim.” Seokjin stood, blowing a kiss that Jimin made a show of catching, giggling maniacally. Drinks balanced on top of the food box, Seokjin made his way towards his new-but hopefully temporary-workplace.

~

“So we know absolutely nothing?” Namjoon asked exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair before slamming his hands on the desk. On either side of him, Lisa and Jungkook tapped away at their laptops, glasses askew and a look of concentration. Yoongi leaned back in his seat, file folder over his face. Seokjin decided now was as good a moment as any to make his entrance. 

“I come bearing gifts.” He announced, plopping the box on the table with not much more grace than Jimin. Sliding the remainder of his sugary drink towards Yoongi, Seokjin pressed Namjoon’s into the agent’s hand, lingering contact just a touch too long. He couldn’t be sure if Namjoon would be into him at all (lack of progress as of late suggested no), but rumours could be enough for his purposes. 

Grabbing a dry-erase marker, he walked over to the whiteboard mounted on the wall and began writing, narrating as he went.

“The night of the heist, a maintenance sweep was scheduled for 9 pm. Innocuous enough, except the computer that did so is off the coast of Italy. Security logs from that time show about what you’d expect, a janitor making a round. Took about five minutes, but the tapes show her there for ten. Thorough little lady, repeating each and every single gesture exactly the same way she did it the first time.” Behind him, Lisa and Jungkook had begun tapping away furiously, occasionally gasping as they confirmed Seokjin’s words.

“Then of course, she leaves. Conveniently moving into a blind spot just before the exit, enough to be out of security’s notice. One hour later, the feedback loop ends and the painting “disappears”. Meanwhile, the janitor drops her cart in the water closet and leaves. The very next day, while the gallery freaks out over its missing artwork, an art student slips into the closet and leaves with a large canvas bag, joining the rest of her peers in the other exhibit before slipping out the east exit.” Seokjin’s lips slowly curved into a smile as Yoongi swore quietly.

“Security feeds from the coffee shop across the street will show you her face, give you where she went, even dumped the van, but I’ll save you the trouble. Kim Dahyun, an excellent thief who pulled off that Klimt scam a while back. Here’s the address to the art studio she’s using as a front to store the paintings, I’m sure you’d benefit from a little stakeout. And with that, I get your laptop for another hour, Jungkookie!” Seokjin turned around, pointing the marker triumphantly. 

The agent in question slammed his laptop shut and cradled his head in his hands. Lisa was still tapping away, while Yoongi had grabbed his suit jacket and dashed out of the room, most likely to acquire a warrant. Seokjin had no doubt they’d get it with their security footage. Namjoon regarded him with a look equal parts curiosity and suspicion. 

“Exactly how long have you know all of this?” He asked quietly, tension in his set jaw. Seokjin pursed his lips-how he handled this would either gain him Namjoon’s trust or set him back entirely, possibly straight to prison despite what he said to Hobi.

“ _ All  _ of this? Only this morning. About Dahyun-ssi, well, sorry Jungkookie but nobody can actually watch cat videos for an hour straight.” Seokjin said guiltily as Jungkook planted his forehead on the desk. He’d have to do something nice for the kid soon enough.

“Honestly, you guys were getting pretty close. Might’ve struggled on getting the address, but within plenty of time for Dahyun-ssi. Sorry, I wasn’t fast enough to catch her little hacker friend, but I have no doubt she’ll pop up again, if only to brag. Consider the rest of this a show of good faith.” Seokjin smiled, leaning against the desk. Namjoon’s face was impassive, but Seokjin was confident. 

“What exactly are you expecting out of this?” Namjoon asked, curiosity in his voice. Seokjin felt a prickle of irritation, but tried not to let it show.

“Isn’t it obvious? Quid pro quo. My siblings.” Seokjin gritted, wondering if the agent was denser than he previously thought. 

“You love them a lot, huh?” Lisa piped up from next to him, surprised. Seokjin turned to her, one eyebrow raised. 

“Of course? They’re my family.” He spoke slowly, as if unsure whether the others would understand him. Lisa simply beamed back, collecting her things and tugging a comatose Jungkook out of the conference room. 

“You would have no problem finding them yourself.” Namjoon’s brow was furrowed, and looked as if in deep thought. 

“But the all seeing eye of Big Brother would be of invaluable help. The darkness only whispers.” Seokjin drawled, wrapping his fingers around the edge of the desk as he looked up at Namjoon. 

“Whispers are more than enough for you and your...friend.  _ This _ is proof of that.” Namjoon waved towards the whiteboard, staring Seokjin down. 

“You’re after something more.” Seokjin didn’t bother refuting-this was a game Namjoon had become all too adept at playing, and Seokjin had already shown too much of his hand. 

“Even criminals need a social life. But since you know about my pal, mind letting him bring me some things? As charming as it is wearing your clothes, the domesticity is getting old. I can’t exactly woo Jiminie wearing  _ your  _ clothes.” Seokjin made the implications clear, emphasizing what they said about Namjoon. It also didn’t hurt to throw in an interest in Jimin; maybe Namjoon would take pity and let him see the assassin more often. 

“Will these things be legal?” Namjoon asked, the tone of his voice suggesting he didn’t want to know. His posture suggested he was disappointed in Seokjin’s change of topic, but didn’t want to push. Seokjin didn’t know which part of that worried him more. 

“Well, acquiring them will be perfectly legal. The rest of it, well.” Seokjin winked and left it at that, making his way out of the conference room. 

~

“So let me get this straight. Even though you managed to get a warrant, were let in by Kim Dahyun herself, and given two straight hours to search, you  _ still  _ couldn’t find the paintings?” Namjoon asked incredulously. Yoongi scowled at him before resuming his pacing. From his corner of Namjoon’s office, Seokjin smiled with amusement. 

“Honestly I’m a little surprised you  _ got  _ the warrant. The evidence we have is circumstantial at best, her disguise was actually pretty good.” Seokjin commented, plucking a pen off Namjoon’s desk. 

“Judge owes me a favor…” Yoongi muttered, not ceasing in his tread. Seokjin snorted outright, testing a button on the pen. To his surprise, the pen snorted back at him-that was when Namjoon took it from him, slipping it into his own shirt pocket.

“I see your time on the flip side stuck with you.”

“Why else would the judge owe me?” Yoongi said darkly as Namjoon frowned. 

“So why did you only get two hours again, hyung?” Seokjin was curious to note that Namjoon (and his team as a whole) tended to refer to each other by more informal standards compared to a normal workplace, especially considering they had only been together for about two years. Perhaps it was due to their collective youth; Seokjin was, after all, the oldest among them. 

“Said she had a meeting. I call bullshit but the warrant wouldn’t let us get very far.” A quick glance at the clock confirmed Seokjin’s suspicions, and he clapped his hands together. When two pairs of startled eyes focused in on him, he smiled widely.

“Actually, that bullshit meeting is very real, and assuming she went through with it, I know where and when. Shall we go catch ourselves a thief?” Namjoon and Yoongi traded looks before Namjoon nodded shortly.

“But we’re taking the surveillance van.”

“Not the kidnap mobile!”

Over Seokjin's protests, Namjoon had insisted on bringing in a proper surveillance detail disguised as an-ironically rundown-repair ran. after sending Yoongi to stake out Dahyun’s house. Currently, he was sitting in a van as the team (minus Yoongi) monitored the person he'd identified as the fence. Seokjin occupied himself by murmuring a slew of curses into the recording pen he'd stolen back after Namjoon confiscated it (Lisa had confirmed it was her latest invention that wirelessly broadcasted its recordings up until it was destroyed). If the agent noticed he didn't comment, too busy focusing on the camera feed. 

Yawning widely, Seokjin caught movement in one of the screens out of the corner of his eye. Surreptitiously he leaned onto the counter, trying to appear bored as he observed the figure. Dahyun was waving in and out of the camera blindspot, but was well on her way to meeting the fence. However, as he watched, Dahyun appeared to receive a message on her phone and frowned before starting back from where she came. Undoubtedly the fence had caught wind of their little scheme and was changing things up; unless they acted fast, Dahyun would most likely be out of the country by that very night. 

“Namjoon. I’m tired and bored and my legs are cramping.” Seokjin poked the agent, who merely swatted his hand away, too engrossed in the footage. 

“Go take a walk or something if you’re not going to be helpful hyung.” Scoffing as best as he could, Seokjin slipped out the van doors and made his walking as leisurely as possibly, heading straight towards the retreating figure of Dahyun. Waiting until she had approached a camera blindspot, he slid up next to her. She froze as he lightly slipped an arm around her waist, inclining his head so he wouldn’t be heard. 

“The repair van at 5 o’clock. NIS.” He murmured quietly. “We’re in a blindspot now, but keep walking.” He waited a moment before nudging her gently. She turned towards him, resting a hand on his chest and smiling brightly. 

“Are you…?” Her tone was light, but her other hand has slipped into her pocket, and Seokjin was at once concerned about her possibly being armed. 

“Who else would tip you off about this?” If this little operation was to maintain some semblance of legality, he couldn’t afford to lie outright. This answer seemed enough for Dahyun, who laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder (best she could, being shorter than him).

“I thought you were going to reschedule?”

“It’s in my best interests to do this now. Also, you never know who might be...listening in.” Actually, he was fairly sure that Jungkook had been tuned in to his cursing spree, and was undoubtedly alerting the others to his play. “Do you have someplace we can talk more..privately?” Dahyun turned briefly in the van’s direction before facing him again. 

“Come with me. But please, once we get out of the van’s range I want to drop this couple act. It’s irritating enough with someone I trust.” She grumbled, subtly rolling her shoulders as if to push him away.

“You wound me.” Seokjin joked, bringing his arm back from around her waist. They had long passed the van’s range, but Seokjin figured he would have use for her phone at some point. 

The walk to the studio was long and complex, with dozens of double-backs and extra turns. Dahyun was rather reliable for a number of jobs, and this professionalism was evidence of it. Unfortunate that this was the one job she got sloppy on. Although Seokjin was of the opinion that disguises loosened inhibitions regardless (and didn’t particularly feel like covering up his face). 

Finally, he was ushered into the studio via a back exit, locked and closed behind him. Dahyun led him up a set of stairs to what appeared to be a regular art studio. As she drew curtains over each of the floor-length windows, Seokjin assisted her in the hopes of spotting Yoongi. He was fairly sure the agent was the consumer dressed in all black at a nearby cafe, but had to shut the curtain before he could confirm it. 

“So they’re here, then?” He asked out loud, wandering towards a ladder. Looking upwards, he spotted a complex mural, raised perhaps 8 feet off the ground, that Dahyun had undoubtedly been working on. 

“You’re not too far off.” Dahyun smirked as she saw where his gaze was. “But I’d like to discuss my payment first.” Seokjin smiled at her as warmly as he could. 

“Get the important things out of the way, hmm?”

“You pay double for the NIS trouble. Can’t afford to be on their radar, not now.” Unsettled, Dahyun flipped on the light switches and moved in front of Seokjin, staring him down. 

“And what makes you think  _ I’m  _ the one that brought them?” 

“I cleaned up my tracks, online and otherwise. No way they can pin this on me, it’s gotta be you.”

“Are you  _ absolutely  _ sure? That you didn’t make one single mistake, slip up even a little? It doesn’t take much, a wire here, a tap on there. Any device really, laptop, tv, phone.” Seokjin murmured, eyeing the ceiling. In front of him, Dahyun swore quietly and checked her pockets. 

“Shit.” Seokjin tried his hardest not to smirk, slowly swiveling his head to face her.

“What is it?” She scowled furiously, fists clenched and body tense. 

“My phone...it’s missing.” Seokjin swore as well, secretly celebrating.

“Tell you what. I’ve got some guys just outside, they can come pick up the goods right now, and I’ll only cut my offer by  _ seventy-five  _ percent for my troubles.” As Dahyun remained motionless, he took that as his cue to continue. “I promise it’ll go smoothly. Just trust me.”

“....I’ll take seventy percent.”

“Fifty five percent or you’re on your own. And since the NIS has your phone, that may not be too long.”

“Fine. You get paid after the pickup.” Smiling brightly at her, Seokjin took one final look at the mural before heading towards one of the floor length windows. Yoongi was already glaring at him, and he gestured quickly, hoping he got the message. 

“They’ll be here in a minute. Want my help getting the paintings?” He asked as Dahyun moved her ladder. 

“What do you mean?” He smirked, taking the ladder from her and moving to the edge of the mural. Feeling along it, he grinned when he found the false covering. With a swift movement, he pulled on it until it swung down, revealing a shallow but wide storage space. 

“I’m impressed by the craftsmanship, couldn’t even see the hinges.” Seokjin remarked. Undoubtedly this was why Yoongi was foiled. 

“Be careful.” Dahyun warned as he hefted the nearest canvas, “Nobody really looks twice at a mural, it’s to my advantage.” Working in tandem, Seokjin and Dahyun managed to get all canvases into a bag. 

“Ah, hope you don’t mind me checking one of these out. Wouldn’t want to be fooled like our friends at the museum.” Seokjin murmured, examining one of the paintings. It was immediately apparent that these were the real Monets, and Seokjin was satisfied. He didn’t bother arguing when Dahyun insisted on carrying the bag herself, leading the way to the back exit. 

It seemed Yoongi had gotten the hint, as the surveillance van was backed up into the alley. Seokjin walked towards it as Dahyun exited behind him, stopping as she spotted the van. 

“Wait, isn’t that-” Her query was interrupted by Seokjin knocking on the van’s doors, which swung open to reveal Namjoon and Yoongi, weapons drawn. Lisa and Jungkook peered out from behind the driver’s and passenger seat respectively; Seokjin gave them a wave before turning smugly to Namjoon. 

“I’d say catching her in possession of stolen property is enough for an arrest, wouldn’t you?” To his surprise, the agent flashed him a small smile before exiting the van, assisting Yoongi with the canvas bag as the other agent handcuffed Dahyun. Seokjin seated himself in the van before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hyung, I want my pen back.”

~

A few hours later they had all returned to the HQ in a good mood, more relaxed than they had been for the past few days. 

“Is it celebration time?” Jungkook asked hopefully. Seokjin looked up from Jungkook’s laptop, where he’d been monitoring a few of his bank accounts and checking in on Jisoo and Taehyung’s last known location. Quickly clearing his activity, he pulled up an innocuous cat video and propped his chin on his hands, attempting to look interested in the conversation. 

“Celebration?” His query was lost amidst Lisa and Jungkook’s cheering when Namjoon gave a nod. Even Yoongi was smiling, though it was more along the lines of a smirk.

“We have a pizza and chicken party every time we bag somebody. No alcohol since Jungkook’s little  _ incident _ , but anything else is fair game.” Lisa explained over Jungkook’s loud objections. 

“You set  _ one  _ microwave on fire and  _ suddenly  _ you can’t have fun I swe-”

“So you had a celebration for me, then?” Seokjin cut in, silencing the room. Nobody would meet his eyes, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. 

“What, no party in my honor? I won’t be offended, in fact I insist. Joint party, celebrating a worldwide master thief and Dahyunnie.” Seokjin joked, patting Jungkook on the back. 

“Ah, we never asked if you wanted a nickname?” Lisa was quickly becoming one of his favorites in the office. Jisoo would get along well with her, he thought a touch sadly. 

“I prefer being called Jin.” He told her as Jungkook discussed pizza toppings animatedly with Yoongi, who was giving him a bemused look. 

“You know Lisa is a nickname too? It’s short for Lalisa.” The Thai girl told him cheerfully, unaware he already knew. Instead of telling her that, Seokjin complimented the name and continued to make small-talk, watching Jungkook puppy-eye Yoongi into ordering the food. That was useful information for another day, he decided. 

An hour later and he had the entire office beholden as he inhaled an entire pizza. Though it wouldn’t hurt him now, he would have to look into a gym if this was becoming his norm. And it  _ would  _ happen frequently with his help, he was sure of it. 

“Seokjin.” Namjoon waved at him from his office. Excusing himself from the others, he climbed the stairs and followed the agent to his desk.

“There should be a hyung there somewhere.” He chided, sliding into the seat across from Namjoon and propping his feet up on the desk, his anklet glinting. 

“Considering I don’t actually know your age, I’m not too sure I want to take your word for it. But that’s not why I called you here.” Namjoon paused, staring at his plate of food as if it pained him. “I wanted to say...thanks. While I’m sure my team could’ve managed, you stepped up when you didn’t have to. So thank you.” 

Of all the words to come out of Kim Namjoon’s mouth,  _ that  _ was not what he expected. Something along the lines of  _ Don’t ever do that again, I know why you’re doing this _ , or perhaps  _ Don’t lead Jimin on,  _ but this was out of the left field. Seokjin allowed a smile to creep onto his face.

“We’re in this together, but I have so much more to lose. It’s really just in my best interests to get along.” Seokjin said noncommittally. For once, he wasn’t acting, and Namjoon took notice. 

“I see. But it’s also in my best interests to keep you close, so thank you.” Namjoon insisted, taking a bite of his chicken. Seokjin gave him an appraising glance, like he was an artwork Seokjin planned to heist.  _ In a way, this game of ours isn’t much different,  _ he mused. 

“Then, here’s hoping we only get closer.”  _ Let’s hope you don’t get burned _ , a voice suspiciously like Hobi’s warned. Seokjin merely smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact I got halfway through the next chapter before deciding to rewrite this three times. But I think this is a bit more satisfying, so here we are. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I know very little about the Korean justice system (most sources aren't in English), so I'm partially basing it off the American one and keeping that as reasonable as possible. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


	4. 4

“You should ask me out sometime, Chimchim.” Seokjin said conversationally, sipping on his drink. Across from him, Jimin pulled a face.

“Hyung you basically raised me.” Seokjin rolled his eyes, smiling just a little. 

“I need a reason to get out of Namjoon’s hair that’ll also get under his skin. Besides, I think we’d have a great time.” Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows. Jimin purses his lips, looking thoughtfully out the window. 

“What exactly would we do on our date, hyung? As far as Namjoon-ssi is concerned.” Jimin asked, biting into a cookie. 

“Well, I’d take you to that nice little Italian joint across from the NIS headquarters, perfectly within my radius and spitting distance of night owl Min Yoongi. Luckily, you happen to live just by there, and we spend a lovely night together, which Namjoon will hear about in graphic, suggestive detail. But, you’re not really up for a relationship, so we remain friends.” Seokjin spelled out, taking a cookie for himself. 

“So it seems your night would go pretty well, Jin-hyung. What about me? If I’m going to the trouble of renting an apartment for you.” Jimin asked, some amusement on his face.

“Unfortunately for you, I turn out to be a bit of a creep, and you’re left crying on the streets. Luckily, one very sleep-deprived agent with a soft spot for cute little things like you will be heading home around that hour. Cry your way into his house and you can convince him to become a regular here.” Jimin hummed contemplatively. 

“So you get to keep up your weird version of foreplay while I get closer to my target. Overall not a bad deal. I’ll do it. Have Hobi tell me when. No phones, I’m staying off the grid.” Seokjin smiled brightly, grabbing his usual order of drinks and Jimin’s little food bonus, although technically everything was on the house. 

“Jiminie, if this were my version of foreplay Namjoon would be much more into me. As it is, I’m more like his pet he doesn’t actually want to take care of.” Jimin grimaced.

“Hyung I really don’t want to hear about your kinks.”

“I can’t believe I’m going on a date with an actual child.”

“I’m reconsidering asking you now.” 

Blowing a kiss, Seokjin left the cafe, heading along a now familiar path to the NIS headquarters. Flashing a wink at the security guard, Seokjin made his way to the team room. 

“Jin-oppa! What’s your suit size?” Lisa, careening by on a rolling chair, screamed at him, only to topple with a yelp as she crashed into Jungkook, also on a rolling chair. Speaking of children. 

“That depends on what you need it for. Also, frankly I’m surprised you don’t have it already.” Seokjin said, one eyebrow raised as the two untangled themselves. 

“Ah, we have a pretty good idea of your shoulders, since Namjoon-hyung’s clothes fit you pretty well, but there’s some argument about your waist size.” Jungkook piped up, nearly elbowing Lisa in the face. 

“I’m afraid that’s classified until I can find a good gym.” Seokjin joked, depositing the rest of his drink on Yoongi’s desk. He himself didn’t particularly like the diabetes-inducing drink, but Yoongi enjoyed it enough for him to keep it up.

“You work out? You can come with me and Namjoon-hyung if you want!” Jungkook said, excitedly, grabbing onto Seokjin’s arm. 

“Namjoon works out?  _ When _ ?” Seokjin asked incredulously. While he did spend a lot of time tracking the twins or talking with Hobi, he would’ve noticed if Namjoon left the condo. The agent in question appeared at the top of the stairs. 

“I’m afraid that’s classified.  _ How good is your English? _ ” Seokjin was pleasantly surprised by Namjoon’s lack of an accent, but felt the need to show off. 

“ _ I don’t sound like a bad gangster, if that’s what you mean.” _

_ “Are you lowering your voice?” _

_ “I’m not a native speaker, you can’t lose an accent without changing something else. You, on the other hand…”  _ Seokjin really couldn’t come up with a reason for Namjoon’s fluency; as far as he knew the man was Korean born and raised. 

“Are you two done? Was any of that relevant to the mission?” Yoongi cut in, taking a sip from Seokjin’s proffered drink. 

“He was just complimenting my sexy voice. What mission?” Seokjin cut in over Namjoon, turning to Yoongi. 

“Two weeks ago, a transport containing a vase worth 561,460,000 won was hijacked. The actual thieves have gone underground, but our suspected fence, one Myoui Mina, is attending a formal dinner hosted by the Im syndicate. She’s apparently close with the daughter of the family, and using this as an opportunity to meet potential buyers.” Yoongi tossed a file towards Seokjin, who caught it and flipped through it. 

“So what exactly does that have to do with me and a suit? According to this, Kim Seokjin isn’t on the invite list.” He asked, turning towards Namjoon, who simply raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, Kim Seokjin isn’t. But Lee Jimin can get on it pretty quick.” 

“Who?” Namjoon sighed and shook his head, descending the stairs to take his drink from Seokjin. 

“Look, you being here is contingent on your cooperation. I really couldn’t care less about your short money laundering stint two years ago, but the identity you created to do it is invaluable to us right now. Myoui is American, we’re cooperating with the FBI but they can’t send anyone she won’t sniff out. You, on the other hand, are an established presence who speaks English. You’re our best shot at booking her.” Seokjin considered it. He was fairly sure that Hobi had mentioned the event to him; having his friend there was more reassuring than any NIS backup, not to mention a convenient in. 

“ _ I suppose James Lee can take a break from the Bahamas. _ ” Seokjin murmured, looking Namjoon in the eye. “But I’m bringing my own suit.”

“That’s kind of a relief. We’re not quite letting you off the leash, I’ll be there with you.” Seokjin didn’t expect them to leave him be, but really didn’t expect Namjoon of all people to join him. Though he was a competent field agent, Yoongi, at least, had an underground identity and more experience undercover. 

“Is it because you speak English-”

“Yes.” 

Namjoon’s resigned expression suggested he really didn’t want to do this any more than Seokjin wanted him there; that simple fact brought him some comfort. 

“Well, I suppose I need a bodyguard. We don’t exactly look like siblings. No offense, even my own brother nearly blew our cover once.” Seokjin said lightly, pulling his phone out of his pocket to text Hobi. 

“What is that?” The suspicion in Namjoon’s voice was evident. 

“It’s the 21st century, Namjoon, did you really think I wouldn’t have a phone?”

“I  _ mean, _ when did you get it?”

“Tell me when you go to the gym and I’ll tell you when I got this.” Seokjin winked, tapping the phone on his chin before checking for Hobi’s response, an exaggerated slew of emojis that had Seokjin rolling his eyes. 

“Well then,  _ let’s get suited up? _ ” Namjoon’s groans were buried under Seokjin’s giggles. 

~

“Hobi I could kiss you!”’ Seokjin did a twirl, admiring his suit in the floor-length mirror. Hobi had outdone himself; the suit was a Saint Laurent, traditional black slim waist cut that accentuated his shoulders and waist.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about it, but let’s get this schmutz on your face first.” Hobi held up a makeup bag with some amusement. He himself was wearing a pinstripe suit, a pair of orange tinted glasses perched on his nose. By all rights Hobi’s outfit should be a disaster, but his friend pulled it off. 

“Honestly, Namjoon has some kind of disaster wardrobe, it’s so nice to wear something that actually constitutes as formal wear.” Seokjin murmured as Hobi lightly applied BB cream to his face. After a flattering color of lip-stain was applied and his subtle eyeliner was in place, Seokjin looked himself over in the mirror one final time. Hobi slung an arm around his shoulder and they stood in place for a moment. Simultaneously they pulled the most ridiculous faces they could before breaking into laughter. 

“So here’s your invitations. I’ve got Lee Jimin and Yoo Joonho put as Joseph Young’s guests, and while I’m not particularly attached to the alias, I don’t need anyone snooping around so don’t go causing trouble. Still up for that kiss?” Chuckling, Seokjin pulled Hobi into a hug, brushing back his bangs to place a kiss on his forehead. 

“ _ See you later, alligator.” _

_ “In a while, crocodile. God this is so much worse in English.” _

Whistling lightly to himself, he climbed down the stairs and nearly tripped on the last one. Namjoon was seated in the armchair staring at his phone, clearly waiting for him. His thick-rimmed glasses were nowhere to be seen, and his hair had been styled in a loose fluff around his head. Seokjin suspected his suit to be Burberry, and wondered if Namjoon really wasn’t secretly dabbling in something on his side of the law. Namjoon flashed him a smile as he approached, and Seokjin had a few seconds to appreciate his dimples before Namjoon’s jaw dropped. 

“You-” Namjoon opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. Seokjin smirked as he adjusted his cufflinks, making a show of checking Namjoon out. 

“You know, forget bodyguard, I think I should take you as my boyfriend.” Seokjin whistled appreciatively as Namjoon stood and straightened, still unable to speak. 

“Actually I don’t think Myoui-ssi would appreciate it very much. Sorry Namjoon, another time. Or rather, Yoo Joonho. Here’s your invitation, don’t lose it. Not to say I can’t get you another, but a fed like you wouldn’t appreciate my methods.” Seokjin winked, tucking the invitation into Namjoon’s front pocket. 

“Which says nothing about how you acquired them in the first place.” Namjoon remarked dryly as Seokjin slipped on his shoes. 

“ _ Ay, there's the rub.”  _ Seokjin quoted, smiling brightly at Namjoon, who simply rolled his eyes and moved past Seokjin. Instead of entering the parking garage like usual, they went through the front lobby to an incredibly suspicious van. The door slid open to reveal a grouchy Yoongi in the driver's seat, Lisa bouncing excitedly behind him. Jungkook was peering at a screen nearby, headphones firmly over his ears. 

“Come on in, I've got some stuff to brief you on.” Lisa invited, patting the seat bolted to the floor. In front of her was an array of surveillance equipment, and a couple boxes. 

“First and foremost, we gotta get rid of that anklet. Not that you don't rock it, oppa, but it might tip some people off.” Lisa declared cheerfully, bending to unlock the anklet. Straightening, she handed him a small black box. Opening it, Seokjin gingerly pulled out a delicate, dangling earring. It was the kind of thing Taehyung would wear; the reminder made him sad. 

“That's our new, super tiny mic. It'll catch everything you say and hear. This ring and watch also have GPS tracking, so if you lose one we'll have backup.” Lisa explained, helping him slip them on. As he fastened the earring, Namjoon eyed him from the other side of the van.

“That applies to you ditching them too. The minute they both come off, we call in a squad.” Seokjin pouted outwardly but stored that info away. He could stand to lose the ring at most, then.

“Ah, hyungs, I've tapped into the security feeds, so try your best to stay out of blindspots. Namjoon-hyung’s earring is a two way communication, just tap once to start your end of it. Another tap disables your mic but we'll be able to hear you throughout.” Jungkook chimed in, lowering the headphones to around his neck. Seokjin hadn't noticed Namjoon had a piercing, and it unfortunately made him that much hotter. The van slows to a stop and Yoongi turns back to them.

“We're at the venue, it's up on the roof. We'll be parked just around the corner, if something happens get to us immediately.” He told them as they climbed out of the van. Seokjin waved them off before straightening out his suit.

“Shall we?” Namjoon fell into step just behind him, aware that they were now in Seokjin's element. The entrance to the building was flanked by two bouncers who stepped up as they approached. Flashing them a smile, Seokjin fished out his card, extending it between two fingers. Namjoon was clumsier with it, but eventually the bouncers had examined the cards and were handing them back, allowing them through. 

The inside of the venue was dimly lit, warm reds and oranges casting a glow onto the bodies mingling between the candle topped tables. Seokjin spotted Hobi at one near the bar, nursing a martini. Catching his eye, Hobi smirked at him and raised a mock toast, downing his glass in one go before turning back to the bar. 

Seokjin smiled and waded through the crowd, noting familiar faces to avoid while keeping an eye out for his target. He felt a touch at his elbow and leaned back, Namjoon’s lips grazing his ear.

“Two o’clock. She’s at the table near the balcony access point.” Smiling as if he’d been informed of some good news, Seokjin turned as subtly as possible towards the balcony, where he could see Myoui seated at a high table, sipping a glass of alcohol. He noted another shorter lady standing just behind her, partially obscured by the curtains. A bodyguard, most likely. 

As Seokjin floated towards Myoui, he tuned into nearby conversations, catching what he could. 

“Ah, but the prices are just too much-”

“Horribly out of season, I tell you, just not in good form-”

“But that Kim Vante, I’ve heard good things-” 

Jerking abruptly, it took every muscle in Seokjin’s body not to run to the table. Namjoon’s hand appeared on his lower back, guiding him away. 

“Don’t get distracted.” He murmured, and Seokjin had never hated him more. Keeping a tight smile on his face, Seokjin scanned the room in the hopes of at least spotting Hobi, but his red-haired companion had vanished like his siblings. 

He was being dramatic, perhaps bordering hysteric, and shook his head to clear his thoughts. There was no guarantee that man’s information was in any way recent, and Seokjin could get back at Namjoon at a later date. Fucking up this mission would only set him back further. 

Smiling sweetly at Myoui Mina, he paused just before her table. The hidden bodyguard stepped forward as well, jacket pushed aside to reveal her firearm. The lady herself looked up from her glass, an amicable smile plastered on her face. She was rather cute, Seokjin noted. 

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?” And her Korean was excellent, considering she was Japanese American. 

“ _ How rude of me. My name is James Lee. May I sit for a moment?”  _ Myoui seemed pleasantly surprised by his English, inclining her head. As Seokjin slid into the seat she slid a glass towards him. 

“ _ How do you take your whiskey, Mr. Lee?” _

_ “Neat, if you would. And please, call me James.”  _ He answered smoothly, watching carefully in case she slipped something into his glass. In a show of goodwill she used the same flask to top off her own glass, putting him at further ease. 

“ _ Only if you call me Mina. I don’t recall there being a James on the invitation list.”  _ Myoui said the words lightly, but her gaze was calculating as she sipped her whiskey. 

_ “Jimin tends to escape notice here in Korea, but among English speakers I like to relax.”  _ Seokjin answered, taking a sip of his own. Myoui had excellent taste. 

“ _ From what I’ve heard, you’ve been relaxed for the past couple of years, hm? The Bahamas are gorgeous this time of year, I can’t imagine why you’d be here now.”  _ Mina commented, eyeing him. Namjoon stirred uneasily, but Seokjin held her gaze.

_ “ Beaches are beautiful, but I find some city views can be much lovelier.”  _ He arched an eyebrow, inclining his head to drink. Myoui seemed amused by his response, offering a small smile in return. 

“ _ Yes, I find it to be quite lovely here. At night, especially. Would you care to join me on the balcony?”  _ She asked, leaning back. Her bodyguard frowned, clearly tense, but made no move to stop her. 

“ _ Lead the way. Joonie, wait here.”  _ He addressed Namjoon, who scowled slightly but didn’t follow as Myoui took him to the balcony, letting him pass to shut the doors. They both leaned over the ledge, and Myoui let out a sigh. 

“ _ Sorry, it gets a little..stifling being watched so closely.” _

_ “I know how it is.”  _ In fact, his experiences with being watched only extended as far back as his arrest, but Namjoon was nothing if not persistent. 

“ _ You two do seem rather close though.”  _ Seokjin tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice in answering. 

“ _ In some ways, he knows me better than my own family.”  _ This much was true at least. Despite them ultimately following in his shoes, Seokjin had always tried to keep the twins out of the more severe of his activities. 

“ _ It’s good you have someone that close.”  _

Then there was silence, underlaid by the murmur of the party behind him and the swish of traffic below them, horns occasionally punctuating their bubble. While there was far too much pollution to see the stars, the city lights substituted quite nicely, Seokjin thought. 

“ _ So why are you really here?”  _ Myoui asked, a business-like edge to her voice. 

“ _ Truthfully? Nostalgia. I’m chasing memories.”  _ Myoui seemed incredulous, and he smiled at her sadly. 

“ _ There’s always some excuse to enter this line of work, but staying...the people that stay do it for the thrill. That’s what I miss. That excitement.”  _ Myoui wasn’t looking at him, instead peering into her glass.

“ _ So you’d...throw all you have away, for that thrill?”  _ Seokjin laughed, his earring jumping with the force of it.

“ _ No, not everything. Identities are getting harder and harder to make authentic, and believe me, there’s a lot of money I wouldn’t want to part with. But, some of it, for the right incentive.”  _ Seokjin tipped his head towards Myoui, observing her reaction. 

“ _ I see. What exactly would that incentive be?” _

_ “Reminders. A gold bar here, some small token of a scam there. The target of one of the most daring transport heists this side of the Han River.”  _ Seokjin faced Myoui entirely, who seemed deep in thought. 

“ _ How much would you be willing to part with, to get such a thrill?” _

_ “Name it. You know I’m good for it.” _

_ “Not here. Soon.” _

_ “You know how to contact me, then.”  _ It wasn’t a question, but Myoui nodded anyways, pausing to look at him. 

“ _ My thanks, James. You let me leave early. We’ll be in contact. _ ” Myoui started towards the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. 

“.... _ What do you do, without the thrill? How...how could you bring yourself to leave all this?”  _ For the first time that night, Myoui Mina looked and sounded all of her age, as young as Lisa or Jungkook, younger still than his own family. 

“ _ You find something that matters more.”  _ She nodded slowly, taking it in. Seokjin turned back towards the street as she left, taking in the view. If he craned his head he thought he could spot the NIS van, inconspicuous at its corner. 

“A little sentimental there, hyung.” Namjoon reclined next to him, observing his face. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t push you over this ledge now and make a break for it.” Seokjin murmured, taking another sip of his whiskey. 

“Off the top of my head? I don’t think you could lift me. Plus, though you can’t hear him, Yoongi is on the other end of that earring and not particularly happy about your suggestion.” Namjoon shrugged his shoulders, tipping his head up at the sky. 

Seokjin turned, fisting the collar of Namjoon’s shirt. Angrily, he tugged the agent’s face towards him, glaring directly into his eyes. 

“The  _ only  _ goddamn reason I’m doing this is  _ for my family. _ Tonight, you stopped me from finding out about them. I don’t care how small of a chance, how old the information or how falsified it was, you  _ stopped me _ , and I won’t forget that.” Namjoon blinked at him calmly, wrapping one hand around his fist and slowly prying his fingers apart. Surprisingly, he kept a loose grip on the hand, taking Seokjin’s wrist with the other. 

“I know. I know that now, and I’m sorry. You did well tonight.  _ I  _ won’t forget  _ that. _ ” Namjoon’s voice was low and steady;releasing Seokjin, he turned towards the balcony door, holding it open for him. Seokjin held his gaze for a moment before brushing past him. 

Inside, he kept a relatively straight course for the exit, only bumping into one person, who muttered an apology and moved on by. 

The walk to the van was quiet, and upon entering filled with Lisa and Jungkook’s fussing in turn. The two were rather preoccupied with getting their gadgets back and questioning him about English (which Lisa knew fairly well), giving him plenty of opportunity to ignore Namjoon, who was conversing quietly with Yoongi. Lisa was almost apologetic in putting the anklet back on. 

Seokjin maintained his silence until they got into the apartment elevator, when he checked his phone. A short message was displayed across the screen. 

_ Dongam Park, noon tomorrow-525 mil won _

~

“Ugh. This sucks. Would it be too much trouble to just kill him and be done with it?” Seokjin complained, flopping onto the bed. He hadn’t bothered with the sweatshirt, simply stripped off his suit and collapsed. 

“And you say I can’t kill Suga yet. Very hypocritical, hyung.” Seokjin jerked up to find Jimin next to him, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “And I thought your plan was to seduce him?”

“That was before he started  _ interfering _ .” Seokjin lifted off the bed slowly, turning on his side.

“You know, I wouldn’t put off the seduction route just yet.”

“Nobody asked. What are you doing here anyways?” Seokjin opened one eye, peering at Jimin, who had a wipe held awfully close to his face.

“Sorry hyung, but you don’t want raccoon eyes. Anyways, I got a call from some old friends, want me to take someone out, so I won’t be available for that date. I mean, I’ve got an hour or so before they want a response, what do you say, hyung?” Jimin asked, wiping softly at Seokjin’s eyelids. Seokjin himself hummed, considering it. 

“I’ve actually got a bit of work myself tomorrow, so I won’t be too heartbroken.” Jimin nodded, moving on to Seokjin’s lips. It was an unspoken agreement that they never discussed Jimin’s kills, one that Seokjin was more than happy to continue. 

“If all goes well I can try to meet you later. It’s a rather quick business.”

“Take your time.” Seokjin said dryly, getting up to toss the used makeup wipe. Behind him Jimin flopped onto his side of the bed. Lifting his torso, Seokjin slid under the assassin so that Jimin’s head was in his lap. He threaded his fingers through Jimin’s hair, humming softly.

“I miss them, Chim.”

“I know.”

“I’m so..so  _ tired _ . I just want to find them, hold them again.”

“I know, hyung.”

Seokjin sighed, placing his head back on the board. Jimin shifted around in his lap, cheek pressed to his thigh.

“Do you want me to get rid of Kim Namjoon for you?” 

Seokjin froze. As angry as he was with the agent, the logical part of him knew the easiest thing for the agent would've been to not tell him about his family at all and let him rot in prison. Namjoon hadn't done that, and Seokjin owed him at least the patience to find out why.

“I...think it would be too suspicious. Ask me again in a few months.” Jimin hummed in agreement, nuzzling Seokjin’s leg like an overgrown cat. When they were younger the move had been cute, but now it seemed vaguely sexual. Seokjin pushed that particular thought very far away. 

“Just go to sleep, Seokjin-hyung. Tomorrow will be fine.” Seokjin chuckled, lightly slapping Jimin’s shoulder.

“Brat, that’s my line.”

~

“Let’s go over this one more time.” 

“Do that and I might just mess up to fuck with you.”

“ _ Hyung _ .”

“I’ve done this before no problem.”

“Yes but you hadn’t been trying to arrest the broker.”

“Eh. Same difference.”

“Seokjin-hyung  _ please.” _

Namjoon’s anxiety would’ve been entertaining in any other circumstance, but at the moment was only irritating. While the agent had every right to be worried, the actual part of obtaining evidence wasn’t very hard. Myoui had a reputation for handling the deliveries herself, so provided they timed it correctly there would be plenty of opportunity to catch her with the package. 

“I know, I know. Give her the account number, take the package and don’t look back. You’ll be right behind me the whole time, there’s nothing to worry about. Now shush, we’re here.” Namjoon clammed up the moment Seokjin sat on the bench, standing just behind him. Seokjin opened up a newspaper, making sure a particular page was on the outside. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” Seokjin looked up and smiled brightly, shaking his head. Myoui sat next to him, hands folded over a package. 

“Say, take a look at this.” Turning one of the pages towards her, Seokjin waited until Myoui took one end of the page to slip a small thumb drive into her hand. Her fingers curled over it and she took the paper from him entirely, allowing him to take the package from her lap. Standing, she gave him a nod and walked briskly away. 

“I hope those nerd glasses of yours got something good.” Seokjin murmured to Namjoon as he adjusted his own. Lisa had insisted on them testing her glasses-cam, and enlisted Jungkook’s puppy eyes in convincing them. Needless to say, they had plenty of footage of Myoui with the package. 

Seokjin slowed down as Namjoon halted, checking a text on his phone. 

“Yoongi hyung says they got her.” He said, smiling at Seokjin, who smiled back. 

That was when it went wrong. 

It was mostly chance that Seokjin had turned at that moment, subconsciously avoiding the pedestrian approaching him, a coincidence that he had been looking down to see the barrel of a gun. Slowly, his gaze traveled up the arm to the half-covered face of the all too familiar man sent to kill him. Their eyes met-

Then he heard the sound of a gun, Namjoon’s shout, and nothing more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Jintro Killed Me  
> Some thoughts:  
> I know Mina isn't an english speaker but last I checked she holds an American passport so I took that and ran with it  
> Additionally, Jinmin interactions are both the easiest and hardest thing to pull off  
> ...  
> enjoy the cliffhanger


	5. 5

If Seokjin could think over the buzzing he'd likely appreciate the irony of his situation. Jimin’s bullet had missed him entirely- just grazing Namjoon's shoulder when the agent pushed him out of the way. 

Yoongi's bullet did  _ not  _ miss, and Seokjin watched wide eyed as the assassin reeled, clutching at his shoulder very similar to how Namjoon was. Seokjin started at the thought, grabbing the agent's shoulder roughly. He ignored Namjoon's swearing, focusing on keeping pressure on the wound.

Out of the corner of his eye Seokjin could see Jimin fleeing, Yoongi caught between giving chase and helping Namjoon. His fellow agent won out, and soon Yoongi was crouched next to Seokjin- when did he end up on the ground?- taking over Namjoon's wound. Seokjin spotted his recording glasses nearby, knocked free in the commotion. 

After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped on them firmly, moving after Jimin. Hopefully Namjoon’s glasses were unable to catch Jimin’s face or else Seokjin’s little misdemeanor could spell the end of this deal. 

“I’ll try to go after him!” He called over his shoulder, not waiting for Yoongi’s response. It would probably get him yelled at later, but his priority was Jimin. 

It didn’t take him long to catch up to Jimin, who was crouched down in an alley nearby, groaning over his shoulder. Slowly, so as not to startle the injured assassin, Seokjin crouched down in front of him, one hand out to steady Jimin, who tipped forward. 

“S-sorry hyung, I’m  _ so sorry _ -I-I didn’t mean t-” Jimin was sobbing, face buried in Seokjin’s shirt. Shushing him gently, Seokjin appraised his wound, taking off his tie for a makeshift tourniquet. It was certainly more than a scratch, and Jimin would definitely require stitches, but this was the best he could do. Fastening it the best he could, he grasped Jimin and pulled the assassin off of him, leaning him back against as wall. 

“Jimin, it’s ok. You don’t have to explain anything until we get you all better, alright? I’m gonna call Hobi, just rest.” Seokjin pulled out his phone, squatting in case another agent ran by. Seokjin had managed to follow by virtue of knowing Jimin-the assassin was otherwise quite good at covering his tracks-but one could never be too careful. 

“ _ Hyung?” _

“Hobi, it’s Jimin, he’s injured. I’m sending you the address, come get him  _ immediately _ .” Seokjin hung up before Hobi could respond, tucking his phone away and turning to Jimin. His friend’s eyes had become blurry, and he was tipping in and out of consciousness. Brushing Jimin’s blond hair out of his eyes, Seokjin bit his lip. Any longer and Yoongi was liable to come after him, but Hobi had yet to appear. 

“Hyung...you have to leave.” Jimin sounded better than he looked for sure, and he held on to Seokjin’s arm with a frightening grip. Seokjin frowned for a moment before it clicked. He backed up quickly, glancing at Jimin one last time before running off. He had already been standing there for too long-he only hoped no one thought to check the anklet’s records before Hobi arrived. 

Slowing once within the park grounds, Seokjin slowed to take a look at himself. His shirt was easily covered by his suit jacket, and the blood on his hands could very well be Namjoon’s. Losing his tie in a scuffle could explain his extended stay in the alley, or at the very least be convincing enough. 

“Took you long enough.” Yoongi grumbled as Seokjin approached, doing his best to appear mussed up. The grouchy agent and Namjoon had moved to a park bench, Namjoon’s suit jacket discarded to treat his wound. Upon closer inspection it seemed to be barely a scrape, giving Seokjin some relief. He hated the idea of Jimin killing at all, so Namjoon being barely injured was reassuring. That was, of course, the  _ only  _ reason.  

“What happened, hyung?” Namjoon, ever the observant one, eyed his bloodstained hands, undoubtedly questioning his lack of tie. Wiping his hands on his pants, Seokjin shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. 

“Turns out you barely nicked him, Yoongi. The guy was waiting for me in an alley, and you know I hate fighting. I don’t suppose you got a good look at him, Namjoon? I think I lost my glasses at some point, gotta apologize to Lisa…” Seokjin kept his tone casual, running one hand through his hair. He would have to take a very thorough shower, but it was worth it to keep up the act. 

“No, it all happened too fast. But I suppose getting shot does that to you.” Seokjin didn’t even have to pretend to laugh, seating himself by Namjoon and looking over the bandages. Yoongi was fairly neat, and Seokjin was satisfied enough to not intervene. 

“Careful there or you’ll end up like Yoongi.” 

“I’ll get shorter?” Seokjin snorted, patting Namjoon on the back. Some distance away, Yoongi scowled and turned away, snapping at an evidence collector. 

“Ah, I think you pissed him off.” Seokjin whispered, earning quiet laughter from Namjoon. 

“Can’t help being shot, hyung. Doesn’t help after last time…” Namjoon said the last part quietly, clearly to himself, but Seokjin couldn’t help but ask. 

“Last time?” 

“There’s a reason he moved out.” Namjoon stood up abruptly, turning on one heel and stalking away. Seokjin sighed and shook his head, leaning back. He wondered briefly if Hobi would know the story before sitting up and checking his pockets. As discreetly as he could, Seokjin checked the phone screen. 

_ Got Chim, will drop by l8r _

Seokjin tucked his phone away when he noticed Yoongi watching him, winking at the agent who turned away in disgust. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes before getting up, making his way to the van to grovel and beg for a Lisa’s mercy. 

The Thai girl was annoyed for about as long as it took for Seokjin to promise to take her to a new bakery that had opened recently. Gratefully, Seokjin even invited Jungkook along, feeling a slight twinge of fear when he heard the kids discussing their food choices excitedly. Jisoo and Taehyung could certainly eat their fair share, but something about the glint in the agents’ eyes made him wonder if it was worth it. 

It didn’t take them too long to return to the headquarters, Seokjin making it a point to avoid the room where Myoui was being held. While her capture would lose her some credibility, it wouldn’t take long for the Im syndicate to free her. Seokjin didn’t mind burning this particular identity (he had other fallbacks for his ‘retirement’), but she knew his face. He would have to do something about that, actually. 

“So uh.” Jungkook started before stopping. Unfortunately for him, Namjoon had heard, and turned curiously. Jungkook’s refusal to meet his gaze told the team leader what he was about to say, and Namjoon broke into a soft smile. Seokjin marveled how easily his dimples appeared, indenting themselves with barely a twitch of the agent’s lips. Then he realized those lips were moving, and shook his head. 

“What kind of chicken do you want, Kookie?” Namjoon’s voice was soft, even as Lisa whooped in the background and Yoongi frowned(pouted). 

“Say, Kook-ah, tell me more about your gym.” Seokjin looped an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulder, squeezing him affectionately. Jungkook’s eyes lit up, and Seokjin received a large amount of very useful information in the span of time it took for the food to arrive. 

Firstly, Namjoon was surprisingly consistent with his workouts, though not as hardcore as Jungkook. He, oddly enough, woke up around five, worked out for an hour, returned, showered, and fell back asleep in the time it took for Seokjin to prepare breakfast and re-awaken him. The agent was apparently very fit-Jungkook offered pictures but Seokjin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The gym was conveniently in his radius, and Jungkook, sweet Jungkook, offered to pick him up in the mornings if he wanted to join.

Seokjin declined on the basis of valuing sleep (and late night rendezvous with Hobi), but decided to pay a visit on his own time. At worst, he’d start his own home routine, since entire pizzas did not go down the same as when he was Taehyung’s age. 

Yoongi had, at some point over the course of the evening, taken his share of the food and skulked off, leaving them to clean up. Against his expectations, Namjoon didn’t say a word, only bidding Lisa and Jungkook goodnight as they headed to the car. Despite his arguing, Namjoon insisted on driving them like always, both reassuring and making Seokjin uneasy. 

“Goodnight, hyung. Sleep well.” Namjoon murmured over his yawn as Seokjin mounted the stairs. Seokjin returned the sentiment, trying to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach that he recognized as guilt. Namjoon had gotten injured over him, and though his family (which Jimin was by proxy)  was priority first and foremost, it still didn’t sit right with him. Giving up, he turned heel and walked into Namjoon’s room. 

A few things hit him at once. First, there were an absurd number of plushies in Namjoon’s room-the man’s bed was more toy than sleep space. Second, his desk was covered in a number of broken things, in various yet similar states of disrepair . Third, Namjoon was indeed very, very toned. He was also staring at Seokjin, mouth open and shirt slung over one shoulder, not doing much to cover his chest and  _ abs _ . Seokjin himself wasn’t doing much other than staring, though as his gaze roamed it eventually fell onto Namjoon’s bandaged shoulder, which snapped him out of-whatever had just happened. 

“Let me help you with that.” Seokjin said, grabbing just below the wound. Namjoon was still staring at him, though he had shut his mouth. Gently sitting Namjoon on his bed, Seokjin grabbed a nearby first aid kid (it seemed Namjoon was about to change the bandages before Seokjin had barged in) and set to work, staunchly avoiding Namjoon’s questioning eyes. Once satisfied, he stood up and made to escape, only stopped by Namjoon’s hand on his forearm. 

With a tug, Namjoon had Seokjin sprawled on top of him, the agent’s injured arm unable to support the con’s weight. Namjoon recovered faster, sitting up and tightening his grip on Seokjin. 

“Why do you do this?” Namjoon questioned, brows furrowed. 

“What exactly are you referring to, I do a great many things.” Seokjin said as flippantly as he could, very aware he was essentially in Namjoon’s lap. The agent realized at the same time he did, scooting Seokjin to the side and standing up himself, leaning against his desk. Seokjin stared up at him, wondering what he was asking. 

“ _ This. _ Making me breakfast, acting as if you didn’t have a care one moment and scheming the next. Changing my bandages like you wouldn’t run the first chance you got, investing yourself in others while being just as selfish. You don’t make sense, Seokjin-hyung.” Seokjin’s eyes widened;he was left speechless as Namjoon sighed. 

“No, that’s not what I should say. I’m sorry, you did something nice, and I thank you. Go get some sleep, we’ll talk more tomorrow morning.” Namjoon gestured towards his door, offering Seokjin a hand when the con didn’t move. Seokjin took it and stood, tipping his head back just a bit to look Namjoon in the eyes. 

“There’s more to me than my file, Namjoon. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever figure that out.” With that, he left, shutting Namjoon’s door quietly behind him as he ascended the stairs. 

~

Namjoon stared blankly at the door after Seokjin left. With a whoosh of air, he plopped onto his bed, not bothering to avoid his Ryan dolls. With a groan, he crossed one forearm over his eyes and willed himself to stop thinking. That of course, worked out spectacularly, and Namjoon was soon sitting up again, trying his best to avoid standing up and pacing. 

Seokjin had been absolutely right, of course, and that fact only confused him more. Though he knew the con to be intelligent, this level of insight was unprecedented from someone who he had just met. If anything, Namjoon shouldn’t be this tripped up; he had practically devoted two years to pursuing Seokjin, studied the con’s cons inside and out. 

And yet, Seokjin was two steps ahead of him at all times. Even his associate-who he knew frustratingly little about, despite frequent visits to Namjoon’s own home- seemed to be ahead of them on the information game. Luckily, they didn’t seem quite up to what Namjoon knew, and he intended to make use of that in the near future. He owed Seokjin that much for the party at least. 

Understanding the mysterious man just a floor above him would take time, Namjoon knew, but it would be worth it for the day Seokjin ran. It was inevitable, that much Namjoon was sure of, that Seokjin would find some way to slip out from under his hands yet again, and nothing nagged at Namjoon quite as much as the fact that he had never truly caught the con man. Nothing except perhaps that Namjoon didn’t know-for certain- _ why _ Seokjin would run, the same way he didn’t understand why the con had agreed to his arrangement. 

For now, he needed to focus on catching up and getting ahead. He needed to understand Seokjin. And that, he had no idea how to do. 

~

Seokjin was aware of the lump curled up in his bed the moment he stepped onto the landing. As much as he would’ve loved supersensory abilities, it was in fact Hobi seated at his dining table that told him what he needed to know. 

“He’s kind of a mess right now, hyung. I mean, I got him cleaned up and all, but…” Hobi trailed off, sipping his wine. Seokjin slipped into the seat across from him, sighing as he eyed his own bedroom. 

“How did it come to this, Hobi? I promised him, you know. Promised he’d never have to point his gun at me.” Seokjin mused, taking a glass for himself. 

“The Im have... _ had  _ a big connection with the Baq syndicate, their influence over Jimin is more than any of us would like. And he’s so...blinded by his need for revenge, I don’t think he understands how deep he is. How close he was to leaving.” Hobi murmured sadly, eyes drooping sadly. 

“He wouldn’t leave her, you know that. The Im syndicate are the last few people who would know what happened to her; presenting Min Yoongi’s head might be enough. I just…” Seokjin trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say. He stood, nodding to Hobi before entering his room. Sure enough, Jimin was curled up on the bed, sleeping fitfully. 

Sliding behind him, Seokjin wrapped his arms around Jimin and held him close. A small part of him was imagining Tae holding Jimin from the other side, Jisoo at his back, the four of them tucked together like they were kids and able to fit on one bed. Like he could still hold his siblings close.

“Jiminie, I’m sorry.” He murmured into Jimin’s hair. He had never been as tempted to simply cut his anklet and leave as he did at that moment. 

~

Namjoon resolved to be nicer to Seokjin after their incident last night-Namjoon had decided it was blood-loss induced-skipping his gym visit in favor of attempting to cook breakfast. He had improved a little from his college days (burnt the pan without cooking the food), with Yoongi’s impatient and unforgiving tutelage assuring that he could make  _ a  _ meal without destroying his kitchen. If he sometimes forgot which side of the knife was the sharp one, nobody needed to know. 

He was just scraping his (not burnt!) eggs onto a plate when Seokjin stumbled down the stairs, cursing just a little as he tripped on his oversized pants. Namjoon eyed him curiously; after his vocal (and suggestive) complaining about Namjoon’s long pants, Seokjin hadn’t worn the pants at all, but here he was. 

Seokjin stopped still as he spotted Namjoon, jaw dropping. Namjoon felt slightly vindicated, as he was fairly sure this was what he looked like when Seokjin had walked in on him. Paying attention to Seokjin, he struggled to school his smug expression as the con continued to stare. 

“You...shirt?” Namjoon’s brows knitted before he realized what Seokjin meant. Typically, upon returning from the gym, he actually put more effort into his state of dress, managing a shirt and boxers before passing out (Jungkook was a merciless partner). Before that, he slept fully clothed. However, after how addled he had been last night, he had kept only a pair of boxers. The very same pair he was currently wearing, while cooking Seokjin breakfast. 

He may have overshot on “be nicer to Seokjin”. 

Although, he supposed this was the same logic behind Seokjin finally wearing pants. Although what Seokjin had to apologize for-besides walking in on him, but Namjoon wasn’t sure Seokjin felt enough shame to feel sorry for  _ that  _ particular incident-Namjoon didn’t know. It wasn’t Seokjin’s fault he got shot (at least, he was fairly sure it wasn’t).

“More importantly, eggs?” He gestured towards the plate, scratching his head with his other hand. Seokjin blinked a few times before taking a few steps. On about the third one, he tripped, and Namjoon sprang forward to catch him by his (very) broad shoulders. Namjoon promptly stopped that train of thought and righted Seokjin, releasing him with an awkward laugh. 

“Now I see what you mean. You really don’t have to wear those if you don’t want to. The eggs are getting cold, you start eating while I get...well, pants at least.” Namjoon stepped past Seokjin, who grabbed at his shoulder, inadvertently closing over his wound. 

“Oh! I’m sorry I forgot-” Seokjin began as Namjoon winced. He didn’t think Seokjin had re-opened it, the con barely had a grip on it, but the wound still stung. 

“Actually, I do need to change this. So I’ll be a few minutes.” Namjoon explained, not moving despite himself. He watched as Seokjin bit his lip before shaking his head. 

“No, I’ll do it. Just take these pants, I might die if I keep wearing them.” Seokjin bent over and Namjoon hurried back to the kitchen. Even though he knew Seokjin was wearing boxers- _ his boxers-  _ he really didn’t need the image of the stunningly gorgeous man bending over to take off his pants seared onto his brain. 

Thanks to their constant close proximity, a very insistent part of Namjoon’s brain had begun to recognize exactly how attractive Seokjin was, which didn’t help his confusion at all. It wasn’t like he could discuss it with anyone; despite his bisexual rapport with Yoongi, Namjoon didn’t think his hyung would be patient enough to sit through him waxing poetic about the criminal living under his roof.

(The fact that Namjoon wanted to wax poetic probably meant something, but he resolved to ignore that)

Cautiously carrying the plate to the couch, he was surprised to find Seokjin had already grabbed the first aid kit. Placing their breakfast on the coffee table, Namjoon grabbed the pants from where Seokjin had laid them, slinging his legs in carelessly-trying not to think about how they were warm-and sitting to give Seokjin access to his shoulder. 

As the con worked, Namjoon took the opportunity to observe his concentrated face up close. His cheeks had a faint flush, and Namjoon wondered briefly if all the con’s flirting meant something. Then Seokjin pulled back, and Namjoon banished the thought. 

“Thanks for breakfast.” Seokjin sounded sincere as he chewed thoughtfully. “It’s almost edible.” And there he was. After all that weird tension, the glint was returning to Seokjin’s eyes and Namjoon felt himself relaxing. 

“It’s a step up from undercooked in a burnt pan.” He commented, taking a bite for himself. It could use salt, vegetables, actually anything to make it taste less like slightly burnt egg, but it was edible. Namjoon peeked at Seokjin and had to hold back a laugh. 

“ _ How? _ ” Seokjin was incredulous, and Namjoon simply laughed outright before shrugging. 

“Honestly? Nobody knows. Yoongi was upstairs napping, I was occupied with a case file, anything could’ve happened. We ended up getting pizza, in case you were wondering.” Namjoon paused breathlessly as Seokjin laughed, high, bright and squeaky. He had heard all manner of amused sounds from the con, but never outright laughter. It was actually pretty comical, undignified and unfitting to the formal Seokjin, but made about as much sense as the rest of him. 

“You have a nice laugh.” The words were out before Namjoon could prevent them, and Seokjin stopped to stare at him. The flush was back, and Namjoon had even less of an idea of what was going through the con’s mind. 

“That’s…” Seokjin seemed as flabbergasted as Namjoon had felt all morning. Just two weeks ago, had someone told him he would be living with and haphazardly complimenting the master con man he was chasing, he would have laughed in their faces. Now, wearing pants Seokjin had just been wearing, eating breakfast he had made for them and nursing a wound he had taken on Seokjin’s behalf, he had never felt more involved. 

“We should go get ready for work. New case, Yoongi emailed me about it. How do you feel about models?” Namjoon stood and hastily changed the topics, taking their empty plates to the sink. 

“I think Tae and Jisoo could do it.” Seokjin mused. Namjoon paused; he rarely heard Seokjin speak about his siblings. 

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’ve seen them. They’re gorgeous little brats.” Seokjin’s tone was fond, and Namjoon found himself smiling softly. 

“It runs in the family, then.” Namjoon wondered briefly if Yoongi would question him showing up to work with tape over his mouth, but dismissed the thought. Seokjin didn’t seem to be complaining per say, although the flush on his cheeks could mean a number of things-none of which Namjoon wanted to think about. 

~

When Seokjin had woken up, Jimin and Hobi were gone, and he was left to his guilt. Guilt over getting Jimin hurt, guilt over getting Namjoon hurt. He trusted Hobi to take care of the former, but the least he could do was make an effort on the latter. Yes, he had been mad at Namjoon the night after the party, but taking a bullet for him more than made up for any mistake on the agent’s part. So he resolved to put on those accursed pants and stumble his way through a nice breakfast for the injured agent, a small way of making up for a number of things (walking in on him being top of the list, but Seokjin didn’t want to ponder that one too long). 

What he had not expected was Namjoon, nearly naked, cooking  _ him  _ breakfast. For once, they were on the same page. Then Seokjin had the bright idea of giving Namjoon his pants back, which meant he had to strip right there. Thankfully, Namjoon chose that moment to get the food, and what followed was the most awkward conversation since he had finished puberty. It had appeared mostly accidental on Namjoon’s part, too, making it all the more embarrassing. These weren’t the comments of a man trying to get into his pants (ironically he was literally in them), they were the slip of tongues from a man with no filter this early in the morning. 

They were mostly silent on the ride to work, but somehow it wasn’t uncomfortable. Namjoon kept glancing at him periodically, but was mostly consumed by his own thoughts. After the night spent worrying about Jimin, Seokjin wasn’t quite up to calling out Namjoon’s change of heart, but was still curious as to the cause of his fidgeting. As they parked, Seokjin released a sigh. 

“Just spit it out, Namjoon, we don’t have all day.” At his words, the agent seemingly made his decision and fished out a small thumbdrive from his pocket. 

“This has all the current information we have on the location of your siblings. I was going to wait until after this particular mission, and I’ll ask you to do the same, but after what happened last time...At least having  _ some  _ information will keep you from chasing  _ all  _ of it, right?” Seokjin gingerly lifted the thumbdrive, rubbing it between his fingers.

“I don’t exactly have a computer to check this on, so I’ll give you that much. Thank you for this, Namjoon.” Seokjin nodded at the agent and exited the car, walking briskly until he made it to the elevator. The faster he got to the team room, the faster he could appropriate Jungkook’s laptop to at least send the content to Hobi. 

As if specifically to foil him, Namjoon pressed the button to a different floor once they entered the elevator. At his look, the agent grimaced. 

“Remember when I asked you about modeling?”

“And you called me pretty, yes.” Seokjin regaining his self-confidence killed two birds with one stone: his own awkwardness and Namjoon. 

“Right that. Well, a big fashion show is coming up, some kinda...historical theme? Anyways, a loan from the Cartier worth more money than I care to say out loud is going to be displayed at the fashion show. The venue suspects someone may try to go after it and requested our help.” Seokjin hummed his acknowledgement before frowning. 

“I can’t say it’s in my best interests to be a model, Namjoon. Defeats the purpose of being undercover if I’m on a magazine.” At that, Namjoon chuckled. 

“I’ll admit, you were definitely our first choice, and you’ve definitely got a job to do, but no, we’ve got someone else.” As Seokjin was about to ask, the elevator doors dinged open and in stepped a nervous Lisa, flanked by an irate Yoongi and an equally anxious Jungkook. 

“Did you fill him in yet?” Yoongi didn’t bother looking at Seokjin, instead addressing his question directly to Namjoon, who shook his head. 

“Was just about to. Seokjin-hyung, we need you to help Lisa here become a model.” Seokjin raised an eyebrow at the Thai girl, who flashed him a smile. 

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem. So what now?” Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged looks before scratching their heads. The group managed to exit the building and climb into a waiting van (not the kidnap-mobile, thankfully) before Seokjin received his response. 

“The show is this evening, we’ll arrive there in an hour or so. They don’t want anyone besides you two, claim it’ll disrupt the flow, so you’re on your own. Keep an eye out for each other, and call for backup the second something goes wrong.” Namjoon instructed as Jungkook distributed various monitoring equipment, replacing his anklet with a stylish but clunky watch outfitted with the same transmitter.

He and Lisa exited the van and walked a short distance. Lisa flashing her badge gained them access to a whirlwind of chaos and beauty, leaving the agent stunned as Seokjin smiled. 

“I’ll go talk to the show runners, see what I can do to fit in. The loan is over there, keep an eye on it. Don’t get into any trouble!” The agent called as she was swept into the frenzy. Seokjin gave the necklace a cursory glance before turning in the other direction, towards the hair stylists.

_ Time for a makeover. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a bit busy lately, but I'll try to stick to weekly updates?  
> We'll see if I get time to write out the next chapter (fingers crossed)  
> Thank you for reading!


	6. 6

“Excuse me, noona? I was sent over here for my hair?” Seokjin smiled as charmingly as he could at the stylist, who seemed a bit taken aback. Seokjin suspected that was because most models didn’t bother asking nicely; he had observed many simply plopping down in a seat and waiting until someone bustled over. 

“Oh, of course. Come, let’s get started on the bleach. Spring collection, right?” Seokjin nodded in lieu of answering, not particularly concerned as to what color his hair ended up. He would have to get some products from Hobi, however, since he was more than a little certain Namjoon didn’t have any products to maintain dyed hair. 

As the stylist went about killing his hair artistically, Seokjin watched with some amusement as Lisa was moved around across the room. The agent was actually very model material, but was clearly out of her element in the frantic backstage. 

“There you go dear. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, there’s some magazines here if you don’t have your phone.” Seokjin swiveled around in his seat, eventually slowing to a stop when the necklace was in his eyesight. 

There were a few security guards nearby, but people weaved between them frequently, gawkers and photographers alike. Seokjin hummed lightly, texting Hobi to have his friend acquire a laptop for his return, when someone caught his eye. 

She wasn’t a model at the very least, and seemed to be one of the managers by the clipboard clutched to her chest and phone that she kept glancing at frequently. She was perhaps a touch young, her makeup on a little thick, but nothing that Seokjin would need to take note of. 

Until she re-appeared nearly three times over the next twenty minutes. The first instance had been innocuous enough, a simple pass by. But by the time the stylist had returned, it was clear the not quite manager was casing the necklace, plain and simple. 

“Alright, another twenty minutes and you’re due for makeup.” The stylist murmured, setting his hair up once again. Smiling at her, Seokjin swiveled to the model sitting to his left. She had been there for the past ten minutes, silently observing her phone. Her makeup was fairly minimalistic, but she was dressed in one of the more...eccentric dresses of the collection. It appeared to be a bright pink trash bag covered in large pockets, some occupied, others not, but Seokjin was sure the designer had some method to his madness. 

“Getting a little crazy, hmm? I wonder if they’ll have to get extra security or something.” The model looked up at him quizically, scanning the room in confusion. 

“I thought this was pretty standard?” She asked uncertainty. Seokjin gave her a lopsided grin, shaking his head slightly.

“Ah, you’re new at this then. No, I can tell you this is pretty bad. Probably the necklace.” Seokjin shrugged casually, leaning back in his chair. The model bit her lip, eyeing the necklace. 

“It.. _ is  _ a big deal, though.” Seokjin shrugged, trying as best he could to look unconcerned with bits of foil sticking out of his hair. 

“Honestly I’ve seen bigger,” It wasn’t a  _ total  _ lie, he just typically  _ stole _ the bigger deal,“but this kind of thing can be a real career maker for the wearer. Got any idea who it is?” He asked, leaning towards her. 

“If you think I’m a newbie, this girl is fresh meat. A Thai girl, apparently the designer liked the look of her so much he added her last minute.” There was something in this model’s voice that wasn’t quite jealousy, but she was frustrated enough to sympathize. 

“Eesh. But that’s how it goes sometimes. You don’t sound like you’re from here either. Taiwanese perhaps?” The girl seemed a little too startled, but recovered quickly. 

“Not a lot of people pick up on my accent. I’m Chou Tzuyu.” She said her name slowly, hesitant, but it rang true. 

“I’m pretty well traveled. I’m Cha Hyungseok.” Seokjin winked as the stylist returned, swiveling him back around before freeing his hair from the foil and styling it. It turned out a soft pastel pink and reminded him all too much of Jisoo’s disguise. But his little sister was on to something; pink really did compliment them well. 

“Say, Tzuyu-yah, don’t worry about a thing. This’ll work out.” They stood at the same time, and Seokjin patted the model cordially on the back before turning away. 

Security had vanished with the necklace, but Seokjin knew where to find them. He wove through the crowd, taking his time to appear too busy to stop, but not important enough to care. Eventually, he managed to find Lisa’s room, knocking a few times before entering.

“You’re...pink?” The agent was applying a bright lipstick frozen halfway to her mouth. Winged eyeliner made her eyes seem even larger, and Seokjin got the distinct impression of a doll. 

“And you’re red. It’s spring, apparently.” Actually, Lisa’s hair could be described as closer to orange as far as the color spectrum was concerned, but with her lipstick and the lighting Seokjin didn’t feel it made a significant difference. 

“So I guess you didn’t find anything out?” Lisa asked, touching the necklace that glittered around her neck. Seokjin shrugged, moving to stand behind her. 

“I have a few theories. There’s only one thing we should be concerned about.” With a deft hand he unclasped the necklace and slipped it off as Lisa listened to him; he was holding it in the mirror before Lisa could react. 

“It’s  _ far  _ too easy to do this. I could’ve been down the hall before you even knew to call for help.” Seokjin scolded, swapping the necklace to his other hand before setting it back around Lisa’s neck. Lisa frowned, touching it once more. 

“Then what exactly do you suggest? I can’t be packing on the runway.” Lisa’s firearm was tucked away in the corner of the makeup desk, innocuous but within reach. Seokjin smiled. 

“You need to have eyes  _ on  _ the target. Can’t do that if it’s under your nose. I suggest another model. Chou Tzuyu, perhaps?” Lisa eyed him warily, but nodded slowly, reaching for a packet of paper and flipping through it for a moment. She frowned at him, confused. 

“There’s nobody by that name on here?” Seokjiin’s smile never wavered, and he patted Lisa on the shoulders. 

“Nevermind then, I’ll leave you to it.” He left the room before Lisa could respond. 

Seokjin spent the next hour or so watching the crowd sift by, the energy in the air heightening as the time of the runway drew near. He acquired a stray clipboard from a nearby table, borrowing some non-prescription glasses and a hat from props and filing out into the wings with the managers. He sidled up to the lady he had been keeping an eye on before. 

“So which one’s yours?” He asked jokingly, adjusting the frame of his glasses. The lady was surprised for a moment but smiled back at him. 

“Really does feel like they’re our kids, huh? Mine’s pretty in pink.” She gestured towards none other than Tzuyu, who was just starting down the runway. Seokjin pretended to be surprised, nodding approvingly. 

“I think I bumped into her backstage. A cutie. I’m Cha Hyungseok, by the way.” Seokjin bowed a bit, receiving one in return.

“Tanaka Sanako. Most people call me Sana.” The nickname was true, the alias was not. The thing he’d lifted from Tzuyu had confirmed it, but the little lie from Sana made him certain. 

“Well, good luck. I’ve gotta go find my girl, I’ll be back.” In reality, he hid himself in the corners of the area where they had held the necklace, waiting. 

The fashion show took a good few hours to end, but there was an uproar when it did, models and managers spilling backstage in a strange state between excitement and exhaustion. Lisa was easy enough to pick out, flame-colored hair sticking out like a sore thumb. Sana was harder to pick out, But as she approached Lisa, Seokjin kept his eyes on her. 

He nearly winced as Sana plucked the necklace off the agent; had his warning been for naught? Nevertheless, Sana made away with the necklace and was all but at the exit before either Lisa or security realized what was happening. 

With a sigh, Seokjin slipped Lisa’s phone out of his pocket, dialing the most recent contact. With some luck, it would be one of the agents. Otherwise he would have to have a pleasant conversation with Lisa’s mother. 

“Hello?” Thank god for Jeon Jungkook. 

“Jungkookie, it’s me. You know that blindspot in the van’s surveillance?”

“..no? How did you get Lisa’s phone?”

“Ah, well now you do. It’s just a bit next to the west exit, shift camera four and you’ll see someone coming out. Stop them for me.” Seokjin hung up before hearing Jungkook’s response. It didn’t particularly matter, as Sana didn’t have the real necklace. 

“Tzuyu-yah, looking for this?” Seokjin strolled up next to the model, who was frantically checking her pockets. He held the necklace out to her, and her eyes doubled in size. 

“ _ How?” _ Seokjin let her snatch it from him, putting his hands back into his pockets as she clutched it. 

“You’re a good actress, but I’m better.” There was the sound of a gun cocking, and Tzuyu slowly turned to face Lisa, who had her badge out. 

“I’ll be taking that back, thanks.” Tzuyu scowled as Lisa took the necklace and handcuffed her. Seokjin followed as the agent led them outside. 

“So why exactly did our friends catch  _ her  _ friend outside an alley with an exact forgery of the necklace?” Lisa asked conversationally. Tzuyu whipped around, glaring at him. 

“What does she mean by  _ forgery? _ ” Seokjin laughed as Lisa shushed Tzuyu. 

“Pretty Lalisa don’t get too comfortable. I’m sorry to say none of you had the real one at all. But considering how nice the forgery was, I wouldn’t say it was a total loss.” Lisa stared at the necklace she was holding with suspicion as the van pulled up, followed by a general police car that already held Sana. Lisa and Seokjin entered the van, surprised to find just Yoongi and Jungkook. 

“Namjoon-hyung had to return to the office early, some other pending case. He asked we drop you to his place directly. Then Yoongi-hyung said he’d make you walk, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t, hyung.” Jungkook told him as he buckled in. Seokjin chuckled, ruffling Jungkook’s hair affectionately. 

“That’s why you’re one of my favorites, Jungkookie. Speaking of, lovely Lalisa, I borrowed your phone earlier.” Seokjin held it out to the agent, who frowned but accepted it regardless.

“You know, you could’ve just  _ told  _ me what was happening.” Seokjin shook his head.

“Then it wouldn’t have happened. You need to catch them in the act, right?” Lisa nodded thoughtfully as Yoongi pulled up in front of Namjoon’s building. 

“Don’t go running off, I’m having Jungkook track your data until Namjoon gets back.” The grumpy agent warned, scowling as Seokjin mock-saluted him. 

Seokjin couldn’t quite recall the trip up the elevator, just making it up the stairs to Hobi’s heart smile. 

“Wow hyung, I knew pink would look good on you!” Seokjin shrugged off his jacket, pulling at his bangs where they had come untucked from his borrowed but now stolen hat. He pulled off the technically illegal item, running a hand through the dry strands. 

“Yeah. I’ll ask Namjoon, but more likely than not I’ll have to ask you to bring me stuff for it. Don’t want to go bald.” Seokjin tried for a joke, but gave up, sliding Hobi the thumb drive instead. 

“Hobi.” His friend was silent, brows furrowed. Eventually, he just closed the laptop, sighing. Seokjin all but collapsed in the chair. 

“Most of this...is stuff we knew already. But, well…” Hobi looked him in the eyes, face uncharacteristically serious, “It says where they’re going, hyung.”

“ _ Where?  _ Hobi where  _ the hell are my siblings _ ?” Seokjin restrained himself from pounding one fist on the table. 

“Toronto Pearson International Airport. It says they were supposed to arrive yesterday, I think they’re already gone.” Hobi avoided his gaze as Seokjin sank down in his chair. 

“They’re...they’re going after the stash.” Seokjin muttered. Hobi looked up at him, scandalized. 

“You told me the stash was in Malaysia!” Seokjin glanced at him, and he sighed. 

“But it’s not there, is it. I suppose it’s not in Canada either?”

“They know it’s not there. I only told them who to go to.”

“And does that person know where it is for real?”

Seokjin didn’t answer, opting to pull out his phone and dial a number he knew by heart. 

“ _ Seungwan, it’s me. Let me speak to noona.” _

_ “Seokjin-ah?” _

_ “Joohyun-noona. Where are my siblings?” _

~

By the time Namjoon returned, Seokjin was beyond frustrated. His cousin had refused to speak to him on an un-secure line, insisting on meeting him in person when she returned to Korea in a few days. He’d barely gotten two words in before she simple hung up. 

Naturally, Hobi knew better than to attempt to engage an irate Seokjin, and decided to make his exit as Seokjin stalked down to the kitchen. 

Typically, when he became frustrated, Seokjin calmed down by planning out his next heist, working on a counterfeit or drawing up plans. However, that particular stress relief had been cut off, which left him with cooking. Baking, to be more specific. 

Hence, when Namjoon finally walked through the doors, he was greeted by six trays of cookies in various states of cooling, and Seokjin bent over the oven observing the seventh one. 

“Uh. I thought the mission went well?” Namjoon asked nervously. He himself had not been in the best mood, but Seokjin seemed more than a little out of it. 

“Oh it did. Went just fine. Did all your work for you.” Sarcasm was not a nice sound on Seokjin, the con knew it himself, but he took some vindictive pleasure in the fact that Namjoon was reaching for the latest batch of cookies that were certain to burn him. That is, until the agent yelped like a wounded puppy. 

“Are you an infant? Come here, get that under some water.” Seokjin seized Namjoon’s wrist, running the sink cold and shoving the agent’s hand under it. He was still too irritated to notice Namjoon attempting to say something before giving up. 

“I think that’s enough, hyung.” Namjoon murmured, gently pulling his hand out of Seokjin’s grasp before pressing up against him. Seokjin froze, mind trying to process the sensation of Namjoon’s arm nearly wrapped around him, the agent’s cheek incredibly close to his face. Then he realized Namjoon was just reaching for glasses behind him and chewed on his cheek in annoyance. 

“Here you go, hyung.” Unaware of the mini-crisis he had given Seokjin, Namjoon offered the con a glass of cold water that Seokjin took with muttered thanks. Admittedly, it made him feel a bit better, enough to turn from Namjoon and locate his discarded oven mitt, pulling the cookies out of the oven before they burned. Placing them on the counter, he turned around and ran straight into Namjoon, face-planting into the agent’s chest. 

“Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to look at your hair.” Namjoon reached out almost absentmindedly, brushing Seokjin’s bangs out of his face. Seokjin nearly went cross-eyed trying to watch the agent, only to refocus on a dimpled smile. 

“I have some products, if you want. To maintain it and all.” Seokjin simply gaped at Namjoon as the agent laughed, then  _ winked. _

“I wasn’t  _ always  _ a government employee. Do you want to get dinner?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow at the change in subject. 

“I mean order out instead of cooking. I’d say we eat these cookies, but Jungkook might murder me tomorrow if my stomach doesn’t.” Namjoon clarified, stepping back to place his glass in the sink. Seokjin chewed his lip, considering it. 

“Alright. Chicken.” Namjoon laughed at his decisiveness, but ordered the chicken anyways, munching on cookies as they waited. For whatever reason, the silence was companionable instead of strained, despite Namjoon’s information being the source of his stress. 

The agent, for his part, seemed to have made his mind up about Seokjin, no longer as awkward or hardassed as he had been before. If Seokjin had ever had a roommate that wasn’t his siblings, he imagined it would be something like this. 

“So, the two you apprehended are apparently affiliates of the Im syndicate. Minatozaki Sana and Chou Tzuyu. Not sure how you got Chou’s real name, but Sana was easy enough to find in out database. I also heard you had the necklace on you the whole time.” Namjoon paused, considering his next words as Seokjin eyed him over the box of chicken. 

“I’m...proud of you for not running off with it. This is a big deal.” Namjoon said with a smile. Seokjin was not quite used to the agent being so nice; literally just this morning was one of the few positive reactions he had ever had. And yet, here Namjoon was, smiling at him like he wasn’t a master criminal. Vaguely, Seokjin wondered if this was how Namjoon acted around people that weren’t...well, Seokjin. 

“If it’s that big a deal, can I ask a favor?” Seokjin started, setting his plate down. Namjoon raised an eyebrow but nodded, biting into his chicken. 

“Jimin, from the coffee place, asked me on a date. I want to take him up on it.” It had been a while since Seokjin had done CPR, and he wondered if he would be any help should Namjoon continue choking on the chicken like that. Eventually the agent stuffed it down, drinking water and wiping at his watering eyes. 

“I...guess? When would this be?” He asked cautiously, watching Seokjin with a mixture of curiosity and...horror?

“Three days.” Joohyun would be in the country by then, at least. Contacting Jimin and having him hold up his end would be another story, but at least he could count on Hobi to relay the information. 

“That...should work. Behave with him.”  _ I can track you _ was left unsaid. They finished eating and cleaning in silence, air oddly tense. 

Just as Seokjin was about to ascend the stairs, Namjoon stopped him.

“Your hair looks good, hyung. I think Jimin will like it.” With that, the agent went into his room. 

As Seokjin changed into his hoodie (it really needed a wash, actually) and collapsed onto his bed, wriggling under the covers, he wondered what  _ Namjoon  _ thought of his hair. Then he wondered why he cared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say I'm very satisfied with how this turned out, but it should pick up a bit with the next chapter.   
> Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!


	7. 7

“Hobi, you just  _ had  _ to pick the shittiest bar within a two kilometer radius, huh?” Seokjin grimaced as he slid into the booth across from his friend. While the two of them preferred the finer things in life, Hobi was definitely more comfortable scraping the bottom of the barrel. 

“Jinnie-hyung, it’s been too long since you’ve laid low if  _ this  _ gets to you. They have a pretty good selection, if I do say so myself.” Hobi waved a finger at Seokjin, gesturing towards the glasses in front of him. A sniff revealed they contained whiskey of some kind, and Seokjin sipped it lightly. 

“We’re not here to make fun of my life choices, I hope.” Seokjin raised an eyebrow at his friend. When he had received a text from Hobi only containing an address and a time, he’d been more than skeptical, but had no reason  _ not  _ to trust him, and duly reported to the bar, despite the three people passed out in the front. 

“No, I’m actually doing you a favor. I can’t say I like this place any more than you, but a certain government employee prefers it for our liaisons.” Hobi explained, lacing his fingers together. Seokjin’s eyebrows went up, hidden beneath his bangs. He was thankful for the beanie shoved into his pocket, and promptly put it on, tucking his hair away underneath. Hobi slid a face mask across the table, and Seokjin slipped it on as well. 

“What exactly am I supposed to learn from this?” He asked skeptically. Regardless of how close Hobi supposedly was with Min Yoongi, the agent was unlikely to be loose-lipped in public. 

“A few days ago, he asked me to investigate something for him. I’ve got what he wants, I just think you might be interested. Now budge up, he’ll be here any minute.” Hobi waved him off, sipping his whiskey. Seokjin grasped his own glass as he stood, shifting to the booth behind Hobi’s and attempting to look hungover. 

Min Yoongi dressed down nicely, fitting in so neatly with the rabble that Seokin barely recognized him under the all-black ensemble. Nevertheless, the agent made straight for Hobi’s booth, and Seokjin recognized his voice under the gruff greeting. 

“Do you have it?” Seokjin nearly rolled his eyes as Hobi made an over-exaggerated noise of hurt.

“After all this time hyung, that’s all you have to say to me? Is that all I’m good for?” Seokjin could practically hear Yoongi’s scowl, and definitely heard his sigh. 

“Hobi, we saw each other two weeks ago, it hasn’t been that long. And you know what I think of you, that’s the only reason I can trust you with this.” Yoongi explained, with more patience than Seokjin thought possible for the agent. 

“Fine, fine. Your sweet talk won me over. I looked into it. The Rembrandt in Dubai is a forgery, I found another one in Beijing. But don’t get too excited, because the European black market is reporting theirs as authentic, not to mention the Japanese market.” Seokjin nearly choked on his whiskey as Yoongi cursed. If Hoseok was talking about what Seokjin thought he was…

“Is it worth checking any of them out?”

“I’d say the Euro market. Who knows, it might just be there. Have your new CI check it out, he’s more than capable of verifying its authenticity.” Seokjin heard a sharp intake of breath from Yoongi, and the clack of a glass against wood. 

“How do you know about him?”

“I have my sources.” And that source was Seokjin himself, but Yoongi didn’t know that. Seokjin was actually mildly impressed Hobi had managed to keep their relationship unknown to the agent, but his friend dealt in information above all, so he wasn’t surprised. 

Seokjin waited a few minutes after Yoongi left to return to Hoseok’s booth, setting his glass down and leaning forward, chin propped on laced fingers. 

“The Rembrandt isn’t in any of those places.” It wasn’t a question. Hobi grinned,bordering on a smirk.

“See, I thought it was in Malaysia, but apparently not. The forgery you left in its place has recently vanished as well, wonder how that happened.” Seokjin frowned, digesting Hobi’s words before he slowly began to smile. 

“Someone made forgeries, shipped them out beforehand, then stole the ‘original’. Hobi, they’re copying my con.” Seokjin grinned delightedly; imitation was the most sincere form of flattery, after all. 

“Yes, but any thief with the resources to go to these lengths would’ve recognized it as a fake after the first case. Whoever it is that did this, they’re trying to send you a message.” Seokjin mulled it over a moment. 

“Hobi, you don’t think...could they?” Seokjin began, frowning as Hobi nodded grimly. His siblings were the only two people (other than Hobi) who knew he had the real Rembrandt, and with his suspicions they were after his stash, this could be a hint as to their intentions.

“That’s why I sent Yoongi-hyung after the one in Europe. No guarantee he’ll let you look at it, but if Tae and Jisoo left you a clue, it’ll be there.” Seokjin nodded, looking Hobi in the eye. His friend was smiling softly at him.

“We’ll find them, hyung. Today the student’s won’t beat the masters.” Hobi assured him, one hand on top of Seokjin’s forearm. Seokjin grimaced, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go and bidding Hobi farewell. 

As much as he wanted his friend’s optimism, if there were anybody who could beat him at his own game, it would be those two. He only wished he knew what they wanted. 

~

Jimin felt a touch guilty using Hobi, but he wasn’t sure his friend would willingly agree to be bait for his target, considering they were friends. Not to mention Seokjin, who would keep Hobi occupied while Jimin went about it, albeit unknowingly. 

So Jimin waited, guilt churning even as adrenaline raced through his veins. Seokjin had asked he not kill until  _ after  _ the con had escaped his leash, so Jimin settled for simply getting closer to Min Yoongi. Stumbling upon the agent after his meeting his Hobi, acting distraught, seemed to be a good way to go about it. 

“...Kid. You ok?” Jimin nearly smiled through his faked tears. He was curled up just within an alley, within stepping distance and certainly within eyesight of passerbys. Thus, as he sobbed, he was perfectly placed to poke at Yoongi’s conscious. 

“I...I’m fine.” Jimin tried, looking away and blinking through his wet lashes. He heard Yoongi tsk, and felt more than saw the agent crouch in front of him. 

“Clearly, that ain’t the case. And it’s raining.” At some point, Jimin had become unable to distinguish the tears on his face from the droplets of rain, but a peek at the agent’s drawn hood confirmed it was raining. 

“So what? Why do you care?” Jimin tried his best not to sound petulant, but by Yoongi’s drawn out sigh it hadn’t worked. Regardless, the agent didn’t move away.

“I can’t say I do. But I also can’t leave some kid out in the rain by himself.” Jimin was unsure why Yoongi was referring to him as a kid when they were the same height, but let that go in favor of furthering that thread of conversation. 

“You gonna take me home, then?” Jimin rubbed at one of his eyes, glaring at Yoongi, who scowled in return. 

“Listen brat, I’ll walk you back to your own place but don’t push your luck.” Jimin dropped his gaze, pouting slightly. 

“Can’t go back. He might be waiting.” Yoongi seemed confused but not put off, so Jimin forged ahead. 

“Date gone wrong. Lost my phone too. I really...don’t have anywhere to go where I won’t be found.” That, at least, wasn’t a complete lie. There were certain people from his past who contacted him suddenly and frequently, and on the more positive side Hobi liked to keep tabs on him. 

“That’s...shitty.” Yoongi frowned, sighing and running a hand through his wet bangs. The last time Jimin had seen him, from afar, they had been blond, but now upstanding government agent Min Yoongi had returned to his black roots. 

“Look...I, uh, well I’ve been there. Not your exact situation, per say, but...I get it. If you want you can crash with me for tonight. At least until you can find someone else.” Yoongi held a hand out to Jimin, who slowly took it. His own hand was swallowed up by the agent’s as he was pulled upright. After a moment, a jacket was tossed over his head. Peeking out from under it, Jimin found Yoongi slowly getting soaked as the agent’s own jacket was shielding Jimin. 

“Hurry it up, you’re footing the bill if I get hypothermia.” Yoongi growled, stalking off ahead. However, as Jimin followed, he caught the agent sneaking glances back. Yoongi’s apartment wasn’t particularly far from the alley, and Jimin was drier than the agent when they reached. Opening the door, Yoongi grasped his elbow and half-threw him in, shutting the door with a vengeance. 

“Just wait here, I’ll bring towels and clothes.” Yoongi called, stripping off his own shirt. Jimin caught a glimpse of a broad, muscled back before the agent disappeared into a side hallway. Seating himself just beyond the door, Jimin observed what he could of the apartment, committing everything in sight to memory. There were no obvious weapons, or hidden ones for that matter, and it seemed that Yoongi had relaxed a bit since the fall of the syndicate. 

“Here. Didn’t do laundry so I don’t have any clean pants, do you mind?” Jimin looked up to a pair of boxers and a sweater hitting his face, and his protests were muffled by the cloth. Yoongi had apparently acquired a pair of pants for himself regardless, but Jimin suspected they were of the unwashed variety. Shrugging, he stood and slowly pulled off his t-shirt, turned just so that Yoongi got a glance without seeming like he was stripping (a very delicate skill taught to him awkwardly by Seokjin). 

By the time he was bending over to slip on the boxers, ass angled a little out, Yoongi had fled to the kitchen, and Jimin was sure the agent’s face was red. All the better, then, for when Jimin killed him. And he would, the assassin reminded himself. The goal was the agent’s blood on his hands, no matter the road taken to get there. 

He ended up keeping his own pants, wet as they were, rolling his soaked shirt into a ball and stuffing it into his pocket. 

“You want water? Tea? A phone?” Jimin flashed his best smile, and the agent shifted on his feet. 

“No, yes, and yes please. One of my friends might be able to let me stay with him for tonight.” Hobi had actually been letting him stay in a safe house for the last week, but it wasn’t  _ un _ true.

Yoongi passed him his phone and went about making the tea. Jimin dialed the number for Hobi’s burner phone, hoping his friend had it on him at the moment. Luck was on his side, and it picked up a moment later. 

“ _...Yoongi how did you get this number?” _

“Tae! Hey, it’s Jimin. Listen...about that guy...well you were right. Some guy is helping me out, but I need someplace to stay. Any chance you can..?” A small part of Jimin wished he really could call Taehyung;his friend would’ve been more than willing to play along.

“ _ Jimin what the hell are you doing? You better not kill him, if not for me then for Jin-hyung.” _

“Tae! He’s not an axe murderer, be nice. But thanks, I owe you.”

“ _ Just...be careful, ok? You’re playing with fire again, Jimin, and you’ve already been burned. _ ” 

“That’s actually a good idea, I’ll bring it up. Bye, Tae.” Hanging up, Jimin schooled a happier expression onto his face before turning to Yoongi, trading the agent’s phone for a mug of tea. 

“He says I can stay with him, I’ll head over there once the rain lets up.” He also suggested I offer you a discount at the cafe where I work. I wonder if you’d be interested in that…?” Jimin didn’t have to try to look hopeful; keeping Yoongi in constant contact would only make his job easier. The agent considered it, sipping his own tea. Eventually, he gave a small nod, and Jimin smiled brightly. 

“Great! Let me write down the address…” Jimin had taken note of a writing pad earlier, and scrawled the cafe’s address on it, passing it over to Yoongi.

“Look, I know I wasn’t in the best mood earlier, but-” Jimin started, laying on a thick layer of sincerity. 

“No problem. Like I said, I get it. Doesn’t mean I won’t be taking you up on that discount, but I don’t mind too much.” Yoongi shrugged, leaning against his kitchen counter. Jimin followed, leaning forward slightly.

“Then, I suppose you won’t mind meeting me again to get these clothes back? Can’t exactly return them at work.” Jimin asked, smile cheerful with a touch of suggestiveness. Yoongi raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure what to make of that, before nodding slowly. 

“I guess, yeah.” There was a moment where they both simply stared, before Jimin broke into a smile, looking outside the window as the rain petered off. 

“That’s my cue, I guess. I’ll be seeing you then.” Jimin had the doorknob halfway tuned before Yoongi’s hand appeared next to him, holding the door shut. Turning, he found himself pressed to the door, Yoongi bracketing him. 

“You never told me your name.” The agent’s voice was low and raspy near his ear, but Jimin resisted a shudder. 

“You never told me  _ yours _ .” He countered, glaring at Yoongi, who scowled back. 

“You’re a brat.”

“So?”

“So what? Tell me your name.” Yoongi leaned down, making use of his slight height advantage. Undeterred, Jimin rose up to meet him, their noses nearly brushing. 

“If you want to know so bad,  _ come find me. _ ” Logically, Jimin knew humans couldn’t growl; he himself had heard all sorts of sounds, most along the lines of a death rattle. But whatever Yoongi was doing was pretty damn close, and there was a look in the agent’s eye that reminded Jimin exactly  _ why  _ he was trying to kill Yoongi. 

Before the agent could retort, Jimin knocked Yoongi’s hand out of the way, opening the door and slipping out as Yoongi toppled over. Unable to resist a giggle, Jimin forewent the stairs in favor of haphazardly rappelling down the support bar, touching down gracefully. 

As he walked away, he was aware of sharp eyes tracking his movements from above, analyzing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this is short and it's been ten thousand years but here we are?  
> Sope meet up, Yoonmin do weird shit, and Seokjin has hope.


	8. 8

“So, hyung, what can you tell me about this painting?” Seokjin laced his fingers, leaning forward against the table, eyes directed downwards.  He had gotten home rather late after his night with Hoseok, and had somehow avoided all of Namjoon’s questioning well into work by hiding at Jungkook’s desk. Discussing the Iron Man trilogy in-depth was worth any awkward conversations with the agent, though Seokjin wasn’t sure why he thought they would be awkward. Somehow, though, when Namjoon had finally managed to corner him in the conference room, it was to his benefit.

This wasn’t  _ his  _ forgery, at the very least, but an equally good one. He pretended to analyze it for a moment, attempting to find any clues Taehyung and Jisoo might’ve left behind. 

“A classic Rembrandt, really high quality.”

“So it’s authentic?”

Seokjin paused, studying it once more. He couldn’t be certain until it was entirely in his possession, but the odds of the painting containing some kind of message was very high. It was only a question of how to properly get his hands on it. 

“Not at all. A high quality forgery is still high quality.” Seokjin murmured, brushing his fingertips just above a particular section of the painting as Namjoon groaned, sinking onto the desk in despair.

“Ugh. All kinds of forgeries of this particular painting have been popping up on the black market ever since it was stolen. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this crime had your handiwork all over it.” Namjoon muttered, raising his head to glare at Seokjin, who spread his hands impassively. 

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Not that I’ve pulled off this exact con or anything. Or have I?” Seokjin trailed off, purposefully avoiding Namjoon’s look. He wasn’t fully sure how much the agent knew about his past heists, and wasn’t in the business of informing him either. 

“Hyung, uh, boss, we have visitors?” Jungkook opened the door, stuttering over his introductions before simply stepping aside. Two strangers stepped into the room, brushing past Jungkook, who gave a stilted bow and left. Seokjin would have laughed if not for the strange stare of one of the newcomers, who seemed to be analyzing him. Not to be caught off guard, Seokjin winked once before turning his attention to Namjoon, who had straightened at the arrival.

“And you are…?” Namjoon asked, standing as one of the two offered their hand. 

“I’m Agent Choi and this is my associate, Agent Tuan. We’re from Interpol.” The other one offered, bowing slightly before gesturing to his associate, who shook Namjoon’s hand. 

“We’re here about the Rembrandt case. I’m afraid the nature of its heist puts it in international jurisdiction, we’ve been sent to acquire any information you’ve gathered.” Agent Tuan’s Korean was impeccable, but his words were less appreciated, if Namjoon’s frown was anything to go by. Reluctantly, the agent handed over the case files from the desk, wrapping the forgery carefully before passing it over to Agent Choi. 

“Kim Seokjin, I presume?” Seokjin startled at Agent Tuan’s address, but nodded, shifting in his seat. Agent Tuan regarded him a moment, then left without another word. Agent Choi gave his farewells, sheepishly following his standoffish colleague. 

“Bunch of sharks.” Namjoon muttered, curses brewing under his breath as Seokjin frowned after Agent Tuan. 

“That was more than a little odd.” Seokjin agreed, standing to clap Namjoon on the shoulder. The agent sighed, placing his hand over Seokjin’s almost without thinking. 

“How about I go get you some coffee?” 

“How was your date?” 

Namjoon and Seokjin stared at each other for a moment before laughing, grinning at each other. 

“My date went well. I think we might have another one soon.” Seokjin offered; it would all depend on when Joohyun arrived. 

“Good. Jimin seems like a good guy, don’t corrupt him.” Namjoon warned, drawing a short laugh from Seokjin. Inexplicably, he felt a little strange at Namjoon’s approval. On one hand, it was easier on him by far that the agent was taking his little ruse seriously, but on the other hand a small part of him wanted some kind of... _ reaction  _ from the agent. Ignoring himself, Seokjin made a mental note to inform Jimin that they had in fact gone on their first date, to a seedy little bar no less. If only so they could get their stories straight. 

“I’m nothing less than a model, Namjoon.”

“With that face, sure. WIth that anklet, well, I’m having a hard time believing it.” Namjoon teased, in a tone Seokjin hadn’t quite heard before. 

“Now what’s this about coffee?” Seokjin nodded, mock snapping to attention and bowing off, making his way briskly to the elevator. Analyzing Namjoon’s strange behavior could wait; top priority was informing Hoseok of the wrinkles in their plan. 

~

“Well shit.” Was Hoseok’s eloquent response. Rolling his eyes, Seokjin peered at Hoseok’s collection of forgeries, acquired through his extensive network of connections.

“I’m assuming you’ve run all the usual tests?” Seokjin asked, running his fingers over the paintings. None of them struck him as obviously made by his siblings, not that any high quality work would, but there was still a part of him that hoped it would. 

“Who do you take me for? The only thing I picked up on were sub-par working materials. Some of these canvases are not even from the right century.” Hoseok complained, sliding the offending objects across the desk. Tugging his laptop closer, the other man tapped away at the keyboard for a moment before breaking out into a grin. 

“Good news, Jinnie-hyung. Well, kinda.” Hoseok turned the screen around, and Seokjin sucked in his breath. A blurry security image showed Taehyung, wide eyed and pensive, in deep conversation with a slightly shorter man, back turned to the camera. Seokjin couldn’t quite make it out, but something about him seemed familiar. 

“So looking at just the reflection of this guy’s clothes, I pulled up  _ this _ , which is, well…” Hoseok trailed off as the Interpol logo came up on screen. Seokin frowned ever so slightly, gnawing at his lower lip. 

“So not only was our one lead taken, it was taken by the guys who might possibly have my siblings?” Seokjin asked, voice shaking with measure fury. Hoseok nodded furtively, tapping against the table.

“I think our best shot is finding if this person is connected with the agents who took the painting.” Hoseok muttered, moving to sweep up his materials. Seokjin balled his fists, a little tempted to hit something, when his phone went off. Retrieving it from his pocket, he blinked at the screen. 

“Hobi.” Hoseok was alarmed to find a slow smile spreading across Seokjin’s face. 

“That’s not our only lead. Joohyun-noona is in town.”

“Can she meet up?” Hoseok gasped, dropping the file in his hand. 

“Yep. She wants to meet, right now.” Seokjin affirmed, sweeping his suit jacket in one hand and rushing down the stairs. Before he could think twice, he texted the address to Jimin’s cafe and dashed out the door. If anyone knew where his siblings were, it was his cousin.

~

“Interpol is full of shit.” Was Yoongi’s only response to Namjoon’s complaints. Logically, he couldn't’ fault the other agent for his disinterest, as even though Namjoon was technically his superior, Yoongi was under no obligation to listen to his ramblings. But as he considered the older man to be a close friend, Namjoon was a little hurt. 

“Hyung, what’s distracting you?” Namjoon asked, leaning on the edge of Yoongi’s desk as the agent swiveled in his chair, glaring beyond Namjoon, who heard a few hushed whispers and the sound of someone moving away. Now that Jungkook and Lisa had been properly scared off, Yoongi was ready to talk, and Namjoon was ready to listen. 

“Just. Met someone, yesterday.” Yoongi began, hesitating ever so slightly. Namjoon nodded slowly. His friend hadn’t dated anyone in recent years, never so much as showed interest, but there was still something odd about the way he delivered the information. 

“How did it happen?” Namjoon asked, trying not to sound like he was prying. Yoongi shrugged, looking over his computer screen before looking up at Namjoon directly. 

“This kid had a bad date, was crying in the rain and shit. Couldn’t leave him, so I took him to my place to dry off. But uh…” Yoongi trailed off, undoubtedly recalling the previous night. 

“Sounds like you really swept him off his feet there, hyung. He ask you on a date or something?” Namjoon asked. Though that didn’t really make sense considering the circumstances, it could explain Yoongi’s behavior. Namjoon  _ was  _ basically a glorified detective, after all. 

“First of all, no, that’s just common courtesy. Second, kinda? Asked me to visit him at work, this cafe nearby. Should I?” Yoongi asked, looking uncertain. 

“Considering this guy has you distracted enough to not pay attention to your direct superior, sure, go for it. We haven’t got anything new just yet, I can spare you for the afternoon.” Namjoon shrugged, feeling generous. T

hough, truthfully, the night when Seokjin went out with Jimin he had almost rescinded his approval, something unpleasant welling up inside of him. Squashing the memory, Namjoon waved off Yoongi’s doubts, sending him off for the afternoon. He may be overcompensating, but Yoongi of all people deserved a break once in a while, as the agent practically lived at the office. In fact, until Seokjin, Namjoon had been right there with him.

Shaking off those thought, Namjoon headed back to his office, mulling over the incident with those Interpol agents. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, Namjoon retrived a small, older model of phone from one of his drawers, dialing a number from memory.

“ _ Who is this?”  _

“Jackson, hey. It’s me.”

“ _ Namjoon! It’s been forever man!”  _

“Yeah, hey listen, I had a question.”

“ _ Really? What is it, go ahead.”  _

Namjoon shifted in his seat, standing to make sure his face was obscured from any security cameras. 

“It’s about Mark Tuan. What does your boyfriend know about the location of Kim Taehyung and Kim Jisoo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh. It took a bit to get back into the groove of this story but the next arc should go just fine from here on! Hopefully more frequent/longer updates but I can't promise anything, since this is definitely a more...plot intensive fic and I want it to be as clear as possible but also quality, so bear with my slowness. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. 9

“You didn’t say the Im assassin was in town.”

“You didn’t ask.” 

Seokjin replied smoothly, smiling at his cousin over his cup. It was actually sheer luck (or misfortune, time would tell) that Jimin was at the cafe that day. Seokjin had managed to get away with minimal conversation and a promise of catching up later - it seemed they both had new things to share. 

His cousin, on the other hand,  was the same as ever, both visually and in attitude. Secretly, Seokjin wondered how Joohyun had ever managed to get someone as bright as Seungwan, but he knew from faint childhood memories she had a soft spot. Deep, deep, deep,  _ deep  _ down under that layer of disapproval and general aura of fear. Or maybe that was the childhood memories again.

“Hmm.” Joohyun hummed, taking a sip of her own drink delicately. Seokjin turned to look outside the window; it was a nice time of day, the sunlight streaming just right and basking them in a warm glow. Not that his vampire of a cousin would appreciate it. 

“Aaaand here’s food!” Seungwan had no qualms about seating herself directly next to Joohyun, who mellowed considerably at her presence. Or possibly the food; if Namjoon thought Seokjin was hard to read, he wouldn’t have much fun meeting the family. Although ideally the agent would never meet, hear, or make the connection between them. 

“So, what’s this about the Ims? I thought we were here about the kiddos.” Seungwan interjected cheerfully, half of a pastry stuffed in one cheek. Seokjin stifled a laugh, hiding his grin with a food of his own while Joohyun fussed over her girlfriend. After successfully transferring her mess to Joohyun, Seungwan turned her cheeky grin on him and he felt a kinship with his in-law like never before.

(They weren’t married, Joohyun would never fully commit after Seulgi, but he knew Seungwan was there to stay)

“It’s a little complicated, but yes, Tae and Jisoo. I know they visited you two. And I know what they’re after.” Seokjin replied, eyeing Joohyun as she stared him down.

“Do you really?” She asked, not missing a beat. Seokjin tensed as she leaned forward, tapping one elegant finger on the table. 

“My stash.” Seokjin managed to keep the tremor out of his voice. 

“That I don’t know the location of.” Joohyun said dryly, leaning back to sip at her tea. Seungwan watched the exchange with all the enthusiasm of a tennis match, shifting back and forth between the cousins.

“Yes, but they think you do. Where did you send them?” Seokjin asked, eyes narrowed. Joohyun frowned back at him, pursing her lips.

“Don’t act as if they’re not my family too, Seokjin-ah. If there’s one thing we can count on, it’s each other, I wouldn’t lead them astray.” She chastised, temper flaring as Seungwan rushed to comfort her. Seokjin sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“No, you’re right Joohyun-noona, I sincerely apologize. I just… I thought they were  _ dead _ , and just thinking that you of all people could’ve hid them from me…” Seokjin tensed as Joohyun reached her hand out in a rare moment of sympathy, resting it over his. 

“Los Angeles, to a friend of mine. I’ve asked her to redirect them here, in Seoul. They’ll be home before you know it.” Joohyun said softly, withdrawing her hand to pat Seungwan, who was outright crying, comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Thank you.” Seokjin whispered, not daring to look up from the table as his eyes watered over and a great heaviness left him. He felt more than saw his cousin’s smile, but definitely saw Seungwan’s face as she hugged him bodily as they got up to leave. 

It was strange to think such an endearing girlfriend and sensitive soul was technically on the most wanted list of all major government agencies, but there they were. Seungwan gave Jimin a little wave as she left, one arm thrown around Joohyun’s shoulder. Odd to think two of the deadliest assassins this side of the globe were casually greeting each other. 

It took only a minute for Jimin to slide into the seat in front of him, face pensive. 

“So uh, last night was our date, hyung, and-”

“Yesterday we finally-” 

Jimin and Seokjin stared at each other for a moment before breaking into quiet laughter. Seokjin shook his head, resting his chin on his palm as he regarded his second little brother (practically).

“And did you have a good time on this date, Jiminie? Because I happened to take you to this seedy little bar outside town, Hobi can tell you which,” Seokjin winked, pausing as the guilt increased on Jimin’s face. He was very bad at hiding his emotions, but Seokjin supposed if the only people around to see them died shortly after, there wasn’t much point worrying about that.

“I was uh...actually there. I’ve really gotta apologize to Hobi-hyung, but the good news is I got closer to Min Yoongi!” Jimin burst, clamping his hands over his mouth as he realized the loudness of his announcement. Seokjin bit his lip, unsure of whether to laugh or applaud Jimin’s creativity. Great minds truly did think alike.

“That’s great, Jiminie, we’ve just gotta keep our stories straight-”

“Oh shit.” Seokjin was mildly miffed at being cut off, but following Jimin’s line of sight proved it was important. Making his way towards the entrance of the cafe was none other than Min Yoongi himself, fresh from the office, it seemed. 

“You gotta get outta here, if he discusses this with that agent-” Jimin didn’t have to finish what he was saying for Seokjin to realize the implications. Grabbing his cup and the remaining food, Seokjin spun out of his seat, neatly skipping over to the checkout line and grabbing the next order up, slinking to the back wall to wait and watch. 

The resulting hubbub over a mixed order brewed to a head just in time for Min Yoongi’s arrival, distracting the agent just as he walked in. Jimin took care of the rest, greeting him warmly, loudly, and insistently, tugging the confused man away from the door far enough for Seokjin to sneak out. His anklet logs would show him overlapping Yoongi’s time there, but his goods were hopefully enough to avoid suspicion enough to check. 

Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick cover up story to Hobi. Officially on his end, the date with Jimin went nicely, but the barista had called him in that night to say he wasn’t ready for a relationship of any kind, hence Seokjin’s wares. Provided Jimin kept up his end of the deal, and Namjoon didn’t think to pry into how many Jimins there could be in coffee shops nearby, Seokjin was looking at getting away scot free. A good thing, surely.

~

“Mind telling me why Park Jimin, assassin dog for the Im syndicate, is trying to get into my pants?” 

Yoongi’s voice was harsh, grating, and entirely unwelcome as Seokjin flipped the lights on in his room, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sound of the agent’s voice. He had arrived to an empty house, set his coffee on the counter, and decided a nice bath was in order, but here was a tiny grump to ruin those perfectly good plans. 

“Pardon?” Seokjin settled for, trying to go about his routine as if nothing had changed. Yoongi stared him down, about half as intimidating as his cousin (though she could turn men to stone, and it was quite the unfair comparison). 

“Park Jimin. The cutie at the coffee shop you’ve been trying to get me to go to since day one.” 

“Day two.” Seokjin corrected absently, uncuffing his sleeve.

“Whatever.” Yoongi dismissed, “The point is, did you really think I wouldn’t recognize him?” Seokjin sat down on the edge of his bed, regarding Yoongi. 

“Hobi said you two hadn’t met, I took him at his word. Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to be on a date with Jiminie right now?” Seokjin shot back, shrugging out of his shirt and slipping on the nearest hoodie. Yoongi’s glare never left him, but that was more entertaining than anything.

“Faked work. Namjoon was kind enough to give me the rest of the day off, so I decided to get answers.” Yoongi growled, fingers drumming on the armrest.

“Speaking of, where is Namjoonie? He’s usually here by now.” Seokjin replied evenly, rooting around the drawer for his glasses. The agent was almost definitely still at work, that much was obvious, almost as obvious as Seokjin stalling for time. 

“What the  _ hell _ -”

“Park Chaeyoung.” Seokjin interrupted, turning to Yoongi sharply. Some of the effect was ruined by his nerd glasses, but something about his tone made Yoongi quiet regardless.

“Find out who Park Chaeyoung is, and you’ll have all your answers.” Seokjin continued, more subdued but as assertive. Jimin would likely cut him down right then and there if he knew what was happening, but Yoongi was probably not one to spill. 

The agent nodded, not bothering to move as Seokjin slipped outside, thumping down the stairs and out the condo. The walk to the office was brisk, made quicker by the cold but slower by Seokjin’s brief food stop, yet he arrived all too soon regardless. 

The security guard didn’t even blink at the sight of him with food, waving him up with all the flippancy of an established feature. While Seokjin’s basic survival instinct dictated befriending all potential allies or enemies, it bothered him just a little that someone so notorious could become a government dog so quickly. He hoped he wouldn’t be around long enough for that impression to stick.

The elevator doors dinged, and Seokjin took in a deep breath. The man who could change all that at the drop of a hat was just ahead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BACK  
> it's been forever and a half and I have no actual excuse alsdfjals;j but like expect more updates hopefully 
> 
> anyways Joohyun/Seungwan are Irene/Wendy from Red Velvet respectively, go look them up they're great and its canon that irene can murder men with a stare o k  
> in case ur curious the "friend" in LA is Amber Liu bc Sm fam 
> 
> not gonna say much about Yoongi bc that'll come up soon but who expected that he knew? kinda curious
> 
> also, the twins are gonna be in korea wooooo the cast will be together woooo
> 
> tune in next time for namjin in an empty office at night *wiggles eyebrows*
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
